Saturday 3rd May

The wordpress site I post these blogs through tells me that this is my one thousandth blog.  Some achievement – or a monumental waste of time, I am not sure.  But then again, everything we humans do is a monumental waste of time, in the history of the Universe what do the nefarious activities of one species amongst millions on one plant amongst millions in one constellation amongst billions really matter.  But we are all we have, at this moment in time anyway, so maybe at the same time as nothing really mattering in the slightest, maybe every tiny beat of every microscopic insects wings, every flower that opens, every baby that cries does matter.

Some days the subject comes easily – something on the news, or the daily paper, or a book I am reading or more likely music I am listening to will spur my next blog.  Often it a matter of duty – something must be written, and as you may have guessed I have rather a lot of opinions and much to say – which may be better than having none.  I am not sure if I am really a writer.  Yes, I wrote Catherine, and the new book – 2066 – a personal memoir – coming out soon, but I don’t think I have that internal discipline required to sit and consistently write every day.

When (and if) I ever retire I have promised myself to both write and paint again, but there may not be that much opportunity in reality.  I find my days off at present largely taken up with catching up on work, household chores, bits of DIY and a thousand other useless tasks which mean the writing gets put off again.  I should be starting a new book by now, but have no ideas in my head at present.  Maybe the next book will come in a dream, or I may revisit some old writing and try to work something new up.  Until then this blog will have to do.  Who knows I may even reach blog number two thousand one day. r