Walking My Notebook

This week has involved a lot of resting up, hospital visits and organising stuff. At the moment, I'm trying to get myself organised to head off to the Arvo Job for a couple of days, but it's an uphill battle, especially with the weather being so gorgeous and my trusty writing computer calling me...

I went for my usual medicinal walk yesterday evening after putting in a few hours of writing in the afternoon  - 3 laps around the local botanical gardens and home again - and it turned out to be one of those walks. You know, the ones where you end up pulling your notebook and pen from the depths of your rucksack and pop them in a handy pocket because you keep getting ideas and dialogue and text, and you're experienced enough a writer to know by now that you will not remember all those ideas and dialogue and text when you get home, and also know that if you do not immediately record them, you'll consequently wail to the heavens about your artisitic laziness and the resultant lost work. So it was one of those walk fifty metres, stop and jot, walk twenty meters, stop and jot, walk to the bend in the path, wave arms in excitment because of a stupendously amazing inspiration for a certain character, stop and jot etc etc walks.

I love those kinds of walks.

But no walks today, well, at least not around the leafy, sunlit gardens. I shall pound the cold, mean, city streets today for exercise. Not that those walks can't inspire too, but they're not quite as languid and otherworldly. Yep, Real World, here I come :(