Aiode speaks again

Today I will work on my artefact. After mapping her narrative structure with Glenice last week, I see I need to be less a free writer and take on the hard stuff, the actual structuring and plotting. But as usual procrastination... a re-read to remove unnecessary/inadequate adjectives and replace with more metaphorical and illustrative phrases or words... should be fun BUT OH SO TIME CONSUMING. I cannot possibly judge progress via word count.


Today I need to work both sides of my brain... the analytical with all the mind maps and narrative graphing, and the creative... just playing with words, ideas and forms of showing not telling.

I am almost ready to begin playing with the very difficult second person narration of one protagonist.. she is calling out to speak at last after all these months of authorial unwellness and turbulence.

Is the Muse possibly returning and could it possibly have anything to do with the fact I am now spending cash (I really haven't got spare in my budget) to frame my own artworks as I learn to play with different vis arts media? Are they connected?

Perhaps I have rreconnected with colour and have finally accepted that the beauty out there is real, and what normal people see and the much lamented intensive tones and shades of my mania are really only 'dreamstates'and hallucinations. These colours are perhaps not real after all, so why have I spent over twenty years mourning their loss. My other senses seem to be sharpening now and I am definitely having more common moments of synaesthesia. I never query that my dreams are in colour... they just are. I hear sounds as colours. I feel the very air around me as electric charged or pulsating. I love this new 'me'.

Could yoga be doing this or is it new meds and another form of man-made bio-chemical brain inbalance.

Hey, I'm just going to enjoy it while its lasts. I can't believe this can be mine forever... but if this is the plus 3 to plus 4 state just before hypomania... role along.

Am I allowed to position this rating as 'normal happiness' and not a clinical sign of mood lability?
When can I stop judging my moods as abnormal? When will THOSE OTHERS (you know who you are) allow me the freedom to be both sad and happy... and not always position me as 'mad' or in a dangerous space?

Just a little about the image... supposedly Hesiod ( a male poet.. why do the blokes always think they are in a story... even image... is it Hesiod's anima?) and 'a' Muse, hopefully Aiode???

Now the wikipedia entry for Plutarch's original three Muses (Boeotian):

In Greek mythology, Aoide (Ἀοιδή) (or in Latin Aoede) was one of the three original (Boeotian) Muses, though there were later nine. Her sisters were Melete and Mneme. She was the muse of song. According to Greek mythology, she is the daughter of Zeus, the King of the Gods, and Mnemosyne, the goddess of memory. She lends her name to the moon Jupiter XLI, also called Aoede, which orbits the planet Jupiter.

Pleasure to write again

I feel so happy to have spent the day working on my novel. It's sure as hell not Steinbeck or Astley but it is mine. I am so releived to finally give it the attention needed at last. I now understand why so many PhD students begin their three year journey writing the novel. It is a safety blanket, a space where they feel in control. In a way I see that process as an avoidance tactic. A tactic to stave off the insecurity and tumult of the exgetical writing.

We all adore the research process whether it is for the exegesis or the novel, but trying to pull something together when we are painfully aware of our own inadequacies, discovered through the research process. The more we read the less we know so is it any wonder we hide away and feel insecure writing the academic component. Why does the process of creation have to be so damn debilitating at times?

So how can I sum up the last three and a half years? A joy to have time to research and read. A total nightmare to navigate my way through the literary theories, epistemologies and methodologies and a total hatred of academic jargon!

As an aside, in true Shakespearean tradition.... did anyone read today's Higher Ed supplement about the corsetting of undergfrad students... geees I wish there was just such a join the dots template for the exegesis, complete with tutor created notes and clarifiactions. I'm sure even I could pass then. (Drowned by Dr Verbiage column)

What I want to say is what I think and feel about the process, not what others have deemed valuable and acceptable. I am having difficulty putting into plain English what I have learned and am learning about the craft of writing this bloody novel, and I am having great difficulty locating 'proper' sources who actually say the same thing I am trying to. I need the quotes and citations to give weight to my academic writing. Yet I thought all along that my writers journal was the data for the exegesis... apparently not as much as I had hoped.

These two were supposed to speak to each other... the journal and the research. Well in the case of my genre, they have. In the case of how I want to write and what I want to write they have. But in the case of how to write and craft the work, written in academeese... then no way. They appear totally disconnected. I can see linking threads but am unable to get these summarised on paper.

Structure and bones... the one problem assailing me in both written components. At least now for a couple of months I can lose myslef in the joy of writing. I can revel in silencing the critic on my shoulder and forget that I have some very critical friends awaiting, as executioners just down the track.

It is the freedom from stress I have craved for many months now and should go a long way to ensuring mental stability and wellness. Hopefully, I can produce this novel in that time also, and return to the Academy charging in on my white stallion ready to defeat and vanquish the exegetical dragon in the tower.

Modern lives

It seems so easy to keep in touch these days with Facebook and email giving us the pretence of deep relationships and friendships. We know such minituae about our daily lives but this is no substitute for a good old face to face talk.

Why is it that our lives have become so busy, or so filled with appointments and commitments we find it near impossible to schedule quality time with friends? I am in Sydney and know it would be a great opportunity to catch up with absent friends over a nice meal at the Rocks or glass of bubbly in the Cross late at night, but it just seems that such a simple little social event cannot happen if it hasn't been entered into filofaxes, ipad or iphone calendars, or on the physical kitchen calender weeks in advance.

We are all now of a 'certain age' when our children should be independent but here we remain at their beck and call well into adulthood. And that's not counting the ones who are expecting the hands-on grandparenting and free child care!

Many of my women friends are struggling to work hard now that they are back on career track and that means not finishing work before 6pm at the earliest. Then for those with new or second partners, the push to ensure full emotional support seems to me a throw back to the 50s, when women would shower, change clothes and have dinner and slippers waiting for the 'husband' on his arrival home from work. Why do my professional female Sydneysider friends feel they have to do that as well as put in a 8+ hour day themselves? These second 'blokes' also seem to get quite possessive when confronted with a single female friend who knew their partner 'in the old days'.

What am I... the devil incarnate? Here to lure these (normally respectable and dutiful) females into sin and debauchery in 'sin city'? As if I would even know how, anymore. None of my theatrical friends are currently treading the boards so there can be none of those after show parties.

Also it isn't the 70s anymore... we have all slowed down!

It seems if I can subsitute a night on the town for a dinner during daylight/work hours my female friends feel more comfortable catching up.

Do I carry the 'singleton' disease or something?
Is this the related to the defect 'being welcome in a couple's home as long as I have a heterosexual male accompany me'?

Where at my age does the cultural script dictate husband predator? Too many jokes about beinga cougar one day... as if!
Sure I miss being in a committed realtionship, but hey if it is that constricting who would want it?

And I'm sorry to tell you my dearest girlfriends but it is also possible I don't find the love of your life to be Adonis in the flesh... Sorry they are never THAT Perfect Italiano cheese guy from the TV! Only then would you have to worry.

The other thing that seems to stick out in my mind, is that this was less of an issue 18 months (and 50kg) ago.

So dearest JG, I will catch up when you are performing somewhere (preferably in Melb) and DM we can arrange a proper scheduled luncheon. MK we can spend a nice weekend away when you decide this one wasn't quite Mr OK for now... I give you another six months... and a bottle of Cliquot on that one. I will be happy to pay up if I'm wrong (for a change).

Meanwhile keep the tacky email jokes flying and talk on FB real soon ya'll.

Two magnificent days

I'll bet this title surprises readers. Yes, that's correct I have had two very special days. Both were totally focused on pleasure and beauty.

Yesterday, I had my second hypnotherapy session which always leaves me calm and re-energised. I called in to Uni very briefly as yet again the distance between myself and former colleagues remains palpable (except one wonderful colleague who is down to earth and calls a spade a spade). We had a coffee together then I headed for the hills, literally.

I have organised a social function for PhD students next Thursday. It is a wine and cheese tasting. The Clubs officer suggested this as it required very little organising. Well not when I do it.

I decided that our vignerons and producers had had some rough times economcally since the bushfires and the least we could do is assist some of the smaller producers to promote their exceptional quality produce. The wines are not cheap and cannot compete with the bulk purchased NZ Sauv Blanc (wine glut) imports, but neither should they be compared.

The big chain liquor stores can turn over quantities that our smaller regional producers only dream about producing, and whereas each of our NZ imports does not totally guarantee single vineyard grapes or even total regional blend compatibility, our locals go to great lengths to produce some of the finest wines in the world.

Whilst I would never say no to quaffing a Marlborough Sauv Blanc or a Hawkes Bay Cab Merlot, it must be pointed out that our local boutique wines are made for cellaring. I just shared a bottle of Blanche Barkly (Bendigo) 2002 Johan Cabernet that I have cellared for the last nine years. I opened it and shared it with my son on a quiet evening last week post 21st kerfuffle. It was brilliant, so like a very expensive French Cote du Rhone... and it could have gone another 5 years! You do not get to open a bottle and drink that quality of wine without purchasing through the auction houses.

Thus I felt it might be a good opportunity to demonstrate the range of varieties produced in the Yarra Valley. And for them to be tasted as 'young' wines, I have organised some of the best locally produced smallgoods and cheeses to show each off to their best advantage.

So a social event with minimum organisation, not likely.

Yesterday I travelled the width and breadth of the Yarra Valley visiting members of the Small Vineyards Association to build a relationship with these producers.

I hope that in Spring this year, we can organise a larger full staff-tasting with a few vignerons actually presenting their wines and explaining their subtle differences. I have also tee'd up Richard Thomas, the Affineur (yep my newly acquired word for the day meaning cheese maker and connoisseur)from De Bortolli, to accompany the vintners and present some of his specially cellared and imported European cheeses. Our Head of Hospitality, Gage Rossiter (of the Channel 31 Wine Patrol) will also take us through a red wine vintage tour.

So to begin the collaborations needed for this later evening, I have made an initial contact with everybody and have requested two bottles of wine that the local vintners are proud of that represents the varieties produced across the region.

Needless to say there were a couple of tastings along the way and much temptation to begin rebuilding my home cellar holdings.


It was magnificent just travelling the country roads under towering Eucalypts, across green pastures and alongside entryways bordered by Autumnal colours of the vines themselves. The sky was dark grey and ponderous, the occasional rain shower seemed to arrive when I was safely inside my car, and the sun beamed when I stepped out to entered the various cellar doors, whilst rainbows split the sky. It was like a film where the cinematographer had planned it all. Every winemaker I spoke with was passionate about his/her vintages. We actually spoke longer than I had anticipated at each vineyard!

When I arrived late in the day at the Yarra Valley Dairy, just the smells in the air conjured up childhood memories. My father's best friend, Ken Watkins (Uncle Ken and Aunt Glenys) ran a dairy farm in Wild Dog Creek Road, Apollo Bay, Victoria.

On numerous school holidays and some Christmas breaks our family would stay at the farm. The memories of the milking shed there came flooding back with the very familiar scents and aromas. I even remembered the occasions when as a small child I was too weak to actually keep hold of the bottles and teats being voraciously sucked by the calves. It was wonderful to call forth those simple memories that have been absent for so long.

Then what a way to finish the day; at De Bortolli being spoiled by Richard. I tasted some magnificent Raclette (Australian!), some Spanish Manchego, a wonderful Swiss (will discover the name next week... as that was my treat piece to nibble in the car on the way home to the Mornington Peninsula... thanks Richard!), some very interesting Brie from Normandie (that also accompanied me home in its box), and lastly an intriguing blue from the Strezlecki... wow what a range and sensational experience.

It was all so Australian, yet redolent of my European travels as a young woman when I was beginning to develop my palate. A totally perfect day. So relaxing and so full of passion and beauty. I remain inspired, even today.

So for another fix of Francophilia I book into Ella Bache to use my mother's day voucher. Ah, such pampering (after first getting my head straight with a psychiatrist appointment). I guess both are pampering, each in a different way. One emotional and intellectual and the latter, tactile and sensual.

I feel so feminine now as well as feeling very privileged to have wound up the week with such quality 'me-time', even though the excuse for the Yarra Valley jaunt was our social evening next week.

On Tuesday I am determined to take my digital camera (and my glasses as I can't focus the thing without them), up again and shoot some pics to create a display board to accompany the produce I collect next Thursday. Wow, two trips through beautiful Victorian countryside in one week. I am blessed.

Needless to say I will travel on my own so that nobody can taint this truly magic feeling of freedom.