h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

23rd November 2014 NaJoPoMo

Morning NaJo

How's things with you today my fine feathered friend?

Not that you have feathers, of course, but I just saw you there as a remarkable mythical bird, the NaJo bird.

The NaJo bird has high visibility fluorescent yellow plumage and a tendency to gently peck passing objects and creatures, such as me.

Or I. Is it me or I? Such as I sounds more poetic.

It's the birdwatching, its going to my head.

Also the urban cycling that I now do daily. I am forever dressed in high visibility fluorescent yellow gear. It's weird when I go into shops, because the gear reflects onto everything. I was at the fruit counter in the supermarket the other day and I made all the melons go fluorescent yellow.



Great programme on TV last night, The Unearthly History of Science Fiction, Part 1, Space. Hitchhikers Guide was represented, of course, 2001 A Space Odyssey, Aliens, etc. all the usual suspects.

Eeeeeeeek, the clips from Aliens were so scary, I couldn't watch. The husband wants to get the DVD of course. I'm not watching that over Christmas, or at any time, he's on his own.

There was a lot about Jules Verne. What about Jules Verne then? Quite fascinating character. I must find out more about him.

They showed a clip from the surreal ending of 2001 A Space Odyssey. I forgot about that ending. What is going on there? Is it one of these things that everyone has their own ideas about? Perhaps it means whatever you want it to mean.



A flat diminished

A shot of a 1960's style living room, as seen through a viewfinder. I blame the toy/retro setting on my camera, plus the Space Odyssey ending. It was kind of beautiful, beige curtains and carpet, a couple of chrome chairs,record player, gas fire. Nice vinyl collection on the shelf, wish I could see the titles. There were a couple of quite large glowing red dots hovering over the scene, up near the ceiling, they were a bit odd.



Byeee NaJo, you fly away now on your fluorescent yellow feathers, I can see you in the dark. heheh.

[Amy P]

24th November 2014 NaJoPoMo

Hullo NaJo!

Crispy sparkly frosty this morning! First frost of the season!

Warm sunlight right now though, in fact I have my sheets drying outside.

I love catching the last rays of warmth where I can. It makes me feel kind of natural and connected to the earth, like Abra, even though I'm not. .

I did used to be quite hardy and living with the cycles of nature, but now I like my central heating, comfy bed, urban coffee shops and big TV. Although they're nature too. I like urban nature, with grassy bits thrown in. Unlike Abra.

And who is Abra?

There was this book written by Joan Barfoot, called Gaining Ground. We all went crazy about it in the late 70s. The central character was Abra, who leaves her family and all her home comforts, to go live in a cabin in the Canadian wilderness.

Her daughter finds her evenutally, but she can't come home, because her soul has gone all wild and she has become her own woman. Very 70s, , but it was beautifully written.





A flat diminished

Azure blue slopes in the atmosphere, like ski slopes, or waves. The notes somehow surf the slopes .

Erm, OK. Bye NaJo. Have a great day.

Hey CC, I loved your 70's book tip. Here is a children's book with the same message:

http://www.brainpickings.org/2014/11/17/emily-hughes-wild/

think you and all the Daydreamers would really enjoy this.

[Amy P]

Hey Elektra that's a great book! Another one with a feral female protagonist!

Evening all!

Yes! Great illustrations! What a delightful story.

Ah yes, the free spirit. A timeless and alluring theme.



I actually re-read Gaining Ground a couple of years ago, I found a second hand Women's Press copy. It didn't have the same impact, obviously, because I was at a different time of my life.

I found myself feeling a bit sorry for Abra's husband and kids, in fact, which is a terrible admission! I wondered if she could find a balance. Be with them sometimes, then go to the cabin when she needed to reconnect to her wild self. Of course, in the story, her husband didn't understand the wild part of her, which was her catalyst for going to the cabin in the first place.

And it was the 70s. . Walking around in hipster flared loons, reading all these groundbreaking books about gender politics.

That's a setback, memories of hipster flared loons . Mine were green.

OK I'm going now.



Thanksgiving greetings to you, Elektra, by the way!

Thanks sweetie, I can picture you in your green loons, we were all fashion victims, but lava lamps are still . Enjoy Brighton!

25th November 2014 NaJoPoMo

Morning NaJo!

I'm early this morning, the day is hardly light.

Isn't it strange when we lose things, then they turn up right beside us. I pride myself on being a relatively organised person, so when I lose things I get really annoyed.

I've lost this pair of glasses for weeks on end, searched all my pockets, bags, emptied out my desk, peered behind the wardrobe.

I didn't check the fridge though. The fridge? Yes, someone once told me if you lose something, especially a bunch of keys, the last resort is to check the fridge.

So last night I checked the fridge and ...

No. heheh. I've just found them this morning. They are placed neatly on top of some DVDs on the shelf right next to my bed. Not even concealed. Visible to the naked eye, even without glasses, in the half light of morning.



I was going to write an interesting journal entry about the books and characters that shape our life. hmm. Ah well.

We're doing characterisation in my writing group. Uh oh. . I fear characterisation.

However my writing group is so great, it's like being here on h2g2, I can just be my eccentric self, and I'm starting to have a bit of a good time with creating characters, more like play than pressure to create great literature.

OK, so the characters in my head are currently free ranging all over the stage of the page, being all attention seeking, and refusing to obey my stage directions.

I'm thinking I might send them to a faraway kingdom for Christmas, to buy sparkly earrings, mirrors and donuts , and tell them not to come back till summer.





F dominant 7th with augmented 5th

A long long farewell. A long echo of farewell. Like a golden essence. A sadness? A dying? No, doesn't seem to have a context, not sad, beautiful in fact. A long farewell. Abstract. Golden.



Hmm. Late! Byeeeee NaJo, till tomorrow!

[Amy P]

26th November 2014 NaJoPoMo

Morning NaJo!



I'm trying to write a story, I have Actors and a stage, but they won't let me direct them, there'll be chaos on my page.

So I'll take my place as audience and watch them steal the show, they'll be begging me to rescue them by Chapter Ten, I know.



So Beauty and the Beast are drinking whisky at the bar. The Minstrel in his dressing room plays love songs on guitar.

The Orchestra are tuning up, there's tension in the air, for Mrs Moon on First Violin has left to comb her hair.

The Chorus dressed in crimson silk are waiting in the wings. The Best Man paces nervously, and checks he has the rings.



And in the auditorium, the seats are filling fast. The play commences shortly, it is time to call the cast.

'And soon we are to marry!' says Beauty to the Beast. The Minstrel and the Clown will set the table for the feast.

And Mrs Moon has lost her comb, she's searching through her purse. The Chorus tell the Minstrel that his songs are getting worse.



Curtain up in fifteen minutes! Actors take your place! Beauty's at the mirror, she is staring at her face.

The Poet is so handsome, he looks like Cary Grant, he is offering to lend his comb to Mrs Moon, his Aunt.

'Why thankyou dear!' says Mrs Moon and combs her greying hair. She's always liked her Nephew, with his strange poetic flair.



The Best Man's getting anxious, where are the Bride and Groom? The Clown's reciting Shakespeare, walking round and round the room.

The Beast has left the theatre, feeling ugly to the core. The Orchestra are furious, they cannot take much more.

And Mrs Moss appears at last, takes up her violin. The Beast is asking Cary Grant to purge him of his sin.

And curtain up! the play begins, the Poet's first on stage. What kind of story will unravel, here upon my page?

And ...



And I need coffee.

D flat dominant 7th with flattened 9th

Beautiful chord, this is the sound of Resolution. I don't know what this means (it has nothing to do with the above paragraphs). . Resolution. The place where all the loose threads unite. Resolution.

Bye NaJo.

What?? Mrs Moss? Sorry, Mrs Moon, you became Mrs Moss at the end there. Strange typo. I assure you that Mrs Moss is Mrs Moon.

[Amy P]

27th November 2014 NaJoPoMo

Morning NaJo! It is morning, even though 'tis still dark, and the first birdies haven't even squawked or tweetled.



I woke up thinking about Escher's Curl Up. This isn't an uncommon event. . I quite often think about the Curl Up. Here 'tis for reference.

http://www.wikiart.org/en/m-c-escher/curl-up



I love the words on the print, to me they're as much part of it as the creature itself.



Anyway, on a less skilled artistic note, , I have this daydream sometimes that I write a story, then hold the page upside down and watch all the words fall off the end of the page. They land on the table, and start to move around like tiny alphabetical Curl Ups.

For me its a celebration of the word. I like the thought of words having a life, an animation, of their own.

It's especially necessary for me to free them from the context of my own particular stories.



If I could draw like Willem, or Escher, I'd draw how it looks. See how the word Because or Why or Whisper or Possibility curls and uncurls and rolls over the table!

They can always curl back onto my page again, into my story, if they want, although they might take their place in a different order.

Hey! That's a good idea. (heads off to notebook).



Here's my first chord of morning. (played under headphones, the neighbours don't need my version of the dawn chorus. )

C dominant 7th with suspended 4th

The space in between cubes. What?? That's it? Yes. The Space In Between Cubes.

Byeeee

PS Forgive grammatical errors, re page, its early. But you know what I mean. You do?

And now I don't even have time to Curl Up and go back to sleep.

[Amy P]