Self-Winding · A Sort of Progression

Thursday, May 30, 2002

Listening to...
- Andy Sheppard - Introductions in the Dark
- Michael Tippett Symphonies 2 & 4 - the last works that he conducted himself
- John Adams "Nixon in China"- great stuff, power and tension throughout. Being moved by a musical dialogue between Pat and Richard Nixon seems unlikely, but it works. I want to hear more Adams.

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Dodie
Too damned weary tonight to write much; I have been nursing my sick and fading relative for a week, nights and days. I love this dear old lady very much and it allows me willingly to do the many distasteful things involved. There is great dignity in her as she approaches death. In life she has taught me many lessons about stoicism, self-containment and needless worrying about self. As she dies, she will show me how to handle that too. Great gifts, the least I can give in return is cheerful care.

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Tuesday, May 28, 2002

Fodder Finders
For a while I had the job of hunting for interesting and new websites to feed a web page. It's not easy to find good sources - these are handy:
-Yahoo What's New - full daily listing of websites added to the Yahoo directory.
-The Meme Monitor lists mostly games, but often throws up some welcome oddities.
-The Scout Report - a good old warhorse which supplies excellent material, albeit very US-oriented. It leans towards the academic and offers a terrific archive.
- Scout Weblog - helps to mop up newly-published articles and finds some good general websites
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Monday, May 27, 2002

'Fling Wide the Casement, See the Sky'
I love paintings of windows. I have always collected window images, postcards, notes and now websites. A great painter of fenestral themes is Edward Hopper, whose painting "Sun in an Empty Room" exemplifies what I most like visually - spareness, simplicity, mystery, flat planes of light and colour. These Interior Scenes are good.
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Sunday, May 26, 2002

Games
Waste hours playing ARRERS at First2zero. Or apply more grey matter at Flash Chess.
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Bird Blues
At three o'clock hailstones drummed on the tin garage roof. Sheltering in there, I watched the widowed partridge tuck herself under the apple trees. Partridges mate for life they say. Last week she lost her male to a cat, or perhaps a speeding car. She cried and called him for two days. Now she eats peanuts and looks perky.
Like many a woman left alone.
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