Another day

After the debacle that was yesterday, and the day before, comes, no doubt, another. Procrastination rules. Was waylaid by Maud (the dog) finding this gorgeous moth (below):

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Had to rescue it, of course, then take a photo, then tweet to find out what it is (It’s a Black Rustic). I named it Steampunk (a much better name, IMHO), and would like to keep it as a pet, but that would be cruel. Its wings are like a long, black velvet cloak, with black fur hood and gold thread decoration – stunning. Makes me think of my antagonist, Art, in Infixion. Not sure why, since he doesn’t wear cloaks, or fur, and definitely not gold thread.

Love that gothic, dark, OTT stuff. It got me thinking about what influences my writing. So here goes. By the way, these are not necessarily my favourites, just the ones that trigger my imagination.

Books, of course. Not all the books I love influence my writing, at least as far as I can tell, but these do – The Wasp Factory, Brighton Rock, The Cement Garden, Orwell’s 1984. And art – people like Francis Bacon, Paula Rego, De Chirico – and the occasional Dali (or, more often, one section of a painting, the other leaving me cold). Also music – some Smashing Pumpkins, Radiohead, David Bowie. What connects them all, perhaps, is that they’re all a little off-kilter. If you check out the video for Ava Adore by Smashing Pumpkins, you’ll know what I mean http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uWwvQKGjLI Enjoyable, but at the same time, a little disturbing.

Love a bit of melodrama, me. Pushing the limits can either work or backfire, of course. If it backfires, you’re left looking rather silly.

Eek!

After pontificating about all this, I went to film a rather gorgeous spider in the garden, with my trusty assistant, Maud, the cocker spaniel pup, who crashed the set (?) and demolished the poor spider’s web, but luckily, didn’t catch the spider. It’s all on video (trust me, it’s hilarious), but can’t upload it here without paying an extortionate fee.

Lesson learned. Trusty assistants are not all they’re cracked up to be.

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