A change was needed; it was time and so I made the decision. I have changed the focus of the blog from On Writing, to A Life in Writing, it seems to fit far better with the context of the blog as it seems to capture my random ranting and essence of what goes on in the blog, and so I shall leave you with this new change and hope to rant a little more and share the madness as before.
Due to my up and coming wedding, I have been unable to spend an hour at the desk to write, along with that, I’ve had the London Blues that I get about 50 times a year, and yesterday I was in pits of despair as I walked in Peckham, as the greyness washed over me completely. London becomes claustrophobic and impossible to wash off. I know that Samuel Johnson declared that if one is bored of London, is bored of life, which I don’t believe at all, but strangely enough, I flicked open Virginia Woolf: A Writer’s Life and by some strange coincidence I cam across this diary entry;
“London is enchanting. I step out upon a tawny coloured magic carpet, it seems, and get carried into beauty without raising a finger. The nights are amazing, with all the white porticos and broad silent avenues. And people pop in and out, lightly divertingly like rabbits; and look down Southampton Row, wet as seal’s back or red and yellow with sunshine, and watch the omnibuses going and coming and hear the old crazy organs. One of these days I will write about London, and how it takes up the private life and carries it on, without any effort. Faces passing lift up my mind; prevent it from settling, as it does in the stillness at Rodmell.
Monday, May 26th 1924
I hope to find the magic of London once more, I really do.