London’s Dreadful Visitation: A Year of Weekly Death Statistics During the Great Plague (1665), via The Public Domain Review.
FDA Enables Generic Insulins with Lower Prices, via Insulin Nation.
Self-Isolation Might Stop Coronavirus, but It Will Speed the Spread of Extremism, via Foreign Policy.
For 12k, Great Ambient Starts With Minimalist Principles, via Bandcamp Daily.
When the world goes mad, the only addition to a writing sanctum that makes sense is a NES/SNES Mini port of sanity.
Update: this iteration of the working schedule seems to, gasp, work. Having The Book as the last thing I work on before the day’s run - and therefore at the center of my brain on my loop - is a very good shift in thought-process. Afternoon work-chunks much more tolerable.
EarBliss, 28mar2020… THREE, by The Necks. (The world may be falling apart but at least we still have new music from The Necks.)
Meanwhile, at Parenthetical Recluse… Continued Efforts at Pre/Postprandial Workflow Symmetry Continue (Or Something Like That).
“I think it’s terribly dangerous for an artist to fulfill other people’s expectations. If you feel safe in the area that you’re working in, you’re not working in the right area. Always go a little further into the water than you feel you’re capable of being. Go a little bit out of your depth and when you don’t feel your feet are quite touching the bottom, you’re just about in the right place to do something exciting.”
This morning, at Parenthetical Recluse… SitRep27mar2020.
On the bright side of an otherwise abysmal writing day, I learned that the morning’s efforts at schedule modification were a really bad idea. Think I tend to lean more towards the Henry James school of mania than the Lamott school of acceptance. And I accept that.
Meanwhile, at Parenthetical Recluse… Of Routine Maintenance in the Creative Wasteland
“If I can only concentrate myself: this is the great lesson of life. I have hours of unspeakable reaction against my smallness of production; my wretched habits of work – or of un-work; my levity, my vagueness of mind, my perpetual failure to focus my attention, to absorb myself, to look things in the face, to invent, to produce, in a word. I shall be 40 years old in April next: it’s a horrible fact! I believe however that I have learned how to work and that it is in moments of forced idleness, almost alone, that these melancholy reflections seize me. When I am really at work, I’m happy. I feel strong, I see many opportunities ahead. It is the only thing that makes life endurable. I must make some great efforts during the next few years, however, if I wish not to have been on the whole a failure. I shall have been a failure unless I do something great!…”
– Henry James, 11 November 1882, from A TREASURY OF THE WORLD’S GREAT DIARIES.
Meanwhile, at Parenthetical Recluse… On RSS, Discipline, and 40+hrs of ASSASSIN’S CREED: ODYSSEY.
The Haunting Dark Ambient of the Cryo Chamber Label Spans Galaxies, via Bandcamp.
Richard Deakin’s Flora of the Colosseum of Rome (1855), via The Public Domain Review.
COVID-19 and Violent Conflict: Responding to Predictable Unpredictability, via Just Security.
Boxes Stacked on the Side of a Cliff, Form this Home in Hiroshima, via Spoon & Tamago.
Finding that my path to a sanity is joined by first turning off news alerts. And reading George Eliot (THE MILL ON THE FLOSS).
Meanwhile, at Parenthetical Recluse… UZUMAKI.
Meanwhile, at Parenthetical Recluse… ONCE UPON A TIME in Inspirational Refueling.
