Reaching for the words

It's been well over a month since I wrote anything (like a real anything -- not jobs or school or because a deadline was approaching) more than a few sentences. I'm not blocked, really; mostly there just hasn't been time. But when there has been time, a few pockets of it in surprising places, I've been... paralysed.

I know that I don't know enough about writing. I know that I'm not good enough at writing. In the past this knowledge never stopped me from actually doing it. Lately, however, I seem to see more clearly the enormous gap between where I am now and where I hope to be. And it's this gap that looms up before me whenever I go to write. I wonder if maybe I should just live more of life before I even try -- but I am not happy simply doing that, either.

I know the answer to my own unspoken questions: time. Time teaches. Time offers new experiences. Time is an apprenticeship. I know this, but sometimes it helps to type it out loud.

Time takes time.

Um, wow.

My disappearance from blogland was completely accidental. Life just zoomed by and suddenly it's been something like two weeks since I wrote anything at all and, well, here we are! So what have I been doing in the meantime? I've been studying (Thoughts On My First Month of School to come soon), keeping house, having sleepovers, and watching the unfolding love lives of my friends.

I am beginning to sincerely believe that cupid has gone on a mad rampage and is shooting out love-darts all over the place. In the last two weeks alone, two of my dearest friends have moved from the Just Smoo stage to the Really and Truly Engaged. Last Saturday was one bridal shower, and this Saturday is another one. I've received invitations to three weddings next month -- all of them on the exact same day, wouldn't you know it. And since two are on opposite sides of the country and one's on the other side of the world, it looks like I'll only be making it to one. But you get the idea: lurve is all around us.

What else have I been up to? Hmm.

I've been seeing red, for one thing.

I've also been guilty of joining my friends in completely taking over the kids' art room in the Gallery of Modern Art.

I've been posing with my sister.

I've been eating tiny blue and yellow penguins that taste as cute as they look.

And I've been spending time with five beautiful houseguests from New South Wales.

You?

Weekend XVIII :: sense, sensibility, and irish dancing

My weekend was pictureless, alas. Not because anything dreadful happened to me or my camera (although I do fear that the latter is growing a little aged and weary). No, simply because I was having too much fun and too much relaxation to remember to take photos. So I will have to tell you all about it in words.

First, there was Saturday, and great was the sleeping-in thereof. Then there were the usual Saturday things, like general tidying up, and washing -- and cleaning out the fridge. Finally all was done, tiny egg sandwiches were made, mint m&ms (yes!) were tempting me, and party pies were in the oven. Girls' movie night -- yay! About ten of us gathered to watch the newest BBC Sense and Sensibility. It's a truly gorgeous adaptation, and we were excited to share it with our girly friends. We munched and watched our way through all three hours, and then talked for several more hours about life and love, old times and new. We finally headed to bed around 2am, tired but definitely blessed in fellowship.

After breakfast together on Sunday morning, we all parted ways. Lauren and I headed out to a rotary bookfest and spent happy times rummaging through piles and piles of secondhand books. Yes, of course I bought some. I'll review them at my book blog as I work my way through them.

Over lunch, we watched Marie Antoinette, which, apart from all the visual loveliness, proved to be a rather silly movie indeed (and therefore not recommended). However, it got me all interested in Marie Antoinette and her husband Louis VXI, and I did a little sleuthing around to find out more. If any proof was needed, their history makes "the truth is stranger than fiction" very true indeed.

In one of those quirks of life that make everything all so interesting, our lives got to sort of intersect (in a tiny way) with Louis XVI's that very afternoon -- even though he's been headless these two hundred years past. For, hearing that there was a free folk music afternoon on at a local garden centre, Lauren and I headed out to enjoy it. It turned out that the first act was a duo called Fiddlesticks, who were playing a violin made in Paris, France, in 1793 -- the very same year that King Louis XVI was beheaded. I was in awe. Here was an instrument that could, through no huge stretch of reality, possibly have been held and handled by someone who had seen the French royal family -- maybe even someone who had served in the castle. It made the history I'd just been watching hours earlier really come alive.

Of course, the music was awesome, too. The one-hour set told the story -- no doubt elaborated on by creative souls -- of the fiddle's journey from revolutionary France to the here and now. Each new moment in the instrument's history was accompanied by music native to the time and place depicted in the story. So very, very good.

The second set was another duo, an offshoot of the first group, I think. They played a fabulous run of Celtic-inspired fiddle and guitar duets -- with occasional very awesome bits of irish dancing thrown in just to make everybody smile. We later learned that the dancing dude was one of a group of four who made it to the grand final of Australia's Got Talent -- so here's a sample of the goodness:



I bet you're grinning now, right?

After the fun of our music-filled afternoon, there was time for just a quick run home to shower and then head out again for night-church which was great, as always. We had dinner afterwards with a handful of friends and enjoyed some excellent conversation.

And then, back at home, we got to talk to some of our very dearest friends via video chat, and we talked and laughed and made ridiculous jokes until, well, Monday morning actually. And it was also very, very good.

So as you see, my weekend was super in many ways. How about yours?

Oh yes. I still have a blog.

A week has slipped entirely by

Without me stopping to say hi.

That rhyme happened mostly by accident, and it's testament to where much of my week has been spent: with my nose in books (including poetry ones), beginning properly on my road to a bachelor degree. In a small way I was sort of terrified at the thought of studying after a massive break, and I wondered if I'd even known how all this stuff works. But so far, I am completely loving it. Lectures! Assignments! Set readings! Textbooks! Oh my.

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My first week of term has also helped me decide on a minor. My major, creative writing, was always a firm choice. But what to minor in? So many options! Well, being a humanities degree through a Christian college, my core units focus on a smattering of most of the humanities subjects -- including theology and history. And the taste test I've had of the history units so far has convinced me that this would be an ideal complement to my major. So I'm ready to be immersed in the stories of God and humans throughout the centuries. It's exciting stuff!

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This morning at dawn, my sister and I waved off half of our family as they flew away for a few weeks of pure winter in Tasmania. This big house feels rather lonely with just the two of us here, but we have Plans. Tomorrow, for example, an onslaught of girlfriends are coming for dinner and snacks and the delicious newest BBC Sense and Sensibility. Also tomorrow: shopping and a used bookfest. And in a few weeks, we're anticipating the visit of five sisters for some solid catch-up time. Girliness abounds!

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What are your weekend plans? Tell me something awesome.

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PS. Has anyone else noticed that there's so much love in the air it's turning slightly pink?