Monday, June 21, 2004
4 mins till parents and dear old friend arrive for visit and I'm tearing myself away from chez miscarriage, no time for a link, you KNOW where it is, to report:
SLEEP!! only one night mind you. from 7.30 (him)/10.00(me) to 2.30 am, then again from 3 to 6.15.
anyone without kids who's wandered in here will be saying huh? sounds like a rotten night to me. no. it was fabulous. it came on the back of a run of shocking, awful nights that have left me pretty much permanently about to cry/crying/nursing a headache from crying.
and what did I do with the tiny nugget of energy this gave me? rest up? pack? no. I went to the art gallery to see the Monets and Van Goghs that are in town, resulting in a messed-up baby schedule and no afternoon nap for me. but I don't care. I stood in front of Starry Night on the Rhone or whatever it was called on three or four occasions for up to FIVE MINUTES while he slept. and I had a clear enough head to remember why I adore Claude Monet's clouds, and to even have passing thoughts about what artists' composition and themes could teach writers and to note that apparently Wagner had some idea of this, though the paintings influenced by W.'s ideas were my least favourite.
in other words, my mind was back. it's gone again, of course, but oh! the light breaking through the grey clouds a la a coastal winter afternoon in northern france, circa 1880!
SLEEP!! only one night mind you. from 7.30 (him)/10.00(me) to 2.30 am, then again from 3 to 6.15.
anyone without kids who's wandered in here will be saying huh? sounds like a rotten night to me. no. it was fabulous. it came on the back of a run of shocking, awful nights that have left me pretty much permanently about to cry/crying/nursing a headache from crying.
and what did I do with the tiny nugget of energy this gave me? rest up? pack? no. I went to the art gallery to see the Monets and Van Goghs that are in town, resulting in a messed-up baby schedule and no afternoon nap for me. but I don't care. I stood in front of Starry Night on the Rhone or whatever it was called on three or four occasions for up to FIVE MINUTES while he slept. and I had a clear enough head to remember why I adore Claude Monet's clouds, and to even have passing thoughts about what artists' composition and themes could teach writers and to note that apparently Wagner had some idea of this, though the paintings influenced by W.'s ideas were my least favourite.
in other words, my mind was back. it's gone again, of course, but oh! the light breaking through the grey clouds a la a coastal winter afternoon in northern france, circa 1880!
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