When I was younger – perhaps twelve years younger – I’d often be writing in my diary when the birds began to tweet. Their chatter in the cool room was calming. Sometimes I’d be writing through anxieties. I must have had too much of a certain chemical in my brain. I think I’ve dumbed that chemical down now – maybe through booze, or through exposure to trouble. It’s been a while since that familiar, ice cold hand of Panic has fingered its way through my hairline.
I’m predisposed to anxiety, but right now, leafing through the headlines, we seem to be on the cusp of something scary. I am trying not to quiver in that familiar way. Being brave is best.
Two of my favourite people to read and think about – Margaret Fountaine and Virginia Woolf – lived through the Spanish flu. I think of them often – daily. Can that be so? And so, then, how many times a day must I think about a lover? I’ve thought of him more than thirty times in the last five minutes, I’m sure. How quickly our brains work.
It’s 3:15am and I can’t hear the birds yet. Today, eating with a family in the garden, I spoke of Finland and how in the summer the light at around this time is clear and tinged with blue. I know this because we stayed at my uncle and aunt’s, with a window above our heads: it was like a large letterbox of light, allowing one to zoom in on the concrete and grass – or this is how I remember it.
I think Twitter is going to be an interesting place over the coming weeks. I hadn’t much time for it before, but with news stories to interpret and discuss, it seems a phenomenal stream of hype, hysteria and information. What a weird development. And it’s so wonderfully comforting to tune into Stephen Fry’s funny and elegant witterings.
Here are two links to calm and rejuvenate:
WRITERS' ROOMS
SPACE
The above picture is Virginia Woolf's writing room and is credited to Eamonn McCabe. Of course it appeared in The Guardian and can be found on their site.
I stole the space link from my friend Jason, but it's so amazing, I can't keep it to myself.
Try not to touch your faces.
Mia x
27 Apr 2009
Tweet like chocolate
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2 comments:
Rosie and I were being encouraged to Twitter at the Blogging Norfolk launch the other night. I am not sure I have anything to say that justifies it. I think people would describe my ramblings as Twatter.
How beautiful that when you think about true courage you think of Margaret Fountaine.
She was my great Aunt. A conservationist for our times. Long before it was trendy to be green, long before the "green celebrities" was...Margaret. Unassuming but passionate about what she believed in. A woman who didn't need to shout about her love for butterflies and their necessity in our world. She is one of the very few permanent fixtures in the natural history museum. Having been there for almost a century she needs little introduction.
As her great niece I have always been passionate about butterflies. As many as 70% of the worlds butterflies are currently in danger of extinction, we have to reverse this trend. Entomologists the world over have attempted this and continue to endeavour in vain. We have a fight on our hands. A fight against nature. A beautiful fight and a challenging one. I urge all of you to support "Butterfly World"
www.dailymail.co.uk/debate/article-1168733/DAVID-BELLAMY-What-sad-world-kissed-butterfly.html
Just copy and paste the above into your browser.
Without butterflies our ecosystem is in critical danger. We must do everything we can to preserve this beautiful, delicate, fragile and vital species.
In a world obsessed with botox, let's appreciate the beauty right in front of us, not on the cover of a magazine.
Auriole Fountaine
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