Once again, the weather is better, and so am I.
That Venezuelan houseguest is again delayed, and confusion reigns on that front; but his Latin American identity has somewhat influenced the whole situation, as I merely feel like: oh well, okay, no worries. (Now you can see how valuable it was for me to live in easy-going San Francisco for years, and how much I wanted the Sydneysiders to get me in the habit of saying 'no worries' at every turn – it can be valuable to live in places where the existing culture is at odds with one's own personality...).
Writing. Powerpointing. Listening to music, and of course doing better work since the computer is in the 'office' middle room rather than the living room (plausibly I should keep it here).
Sunshine on the basil, thyme and cilantro plants: I do need to buy bigger pots, but they don't seem too unhappy.... And a dazzling tune, played by one of my colleagues, Catriona MacDonald, a very fine fiddler: called, quite appropriately, 'The Joy of It!' – it's an intricate, spiralling tune with a few shifted beats here and there, each of which make the tune leap forward into ecstatic polyphonic arabesques.
***
This morning, I was briefly lying on the couch; the sun made that side of the house warm, without it getting hot. It was so lovely and sunny, I thought of a favorite Chinese poem – one that I had begun to set to music some years ago in an unfinished song cycle that I had titled 'Bronze Mirrors'.
Summer day...
Reading in the heat of noon
I grow sleepy, put my head
On my arms and fall asleep.
I forget to close the window
And the warm air blows in
And covers my body with petals.
(Yuan Mei, 1716-1797; translated by Kenneth Rexroth)
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