Lord, where did the weekend go?
Editing a lot.
My right shoulder aches so much. I can hardly lift my arm. So, what does that have to do with writing?
Nothing at all, except that I have to lift my right wrist up onto the keyboard. Groan. Once it's there, everything seems to be fine, except that my right fingertips keep missing the keys, or else type the wrong letter. So that sentence I just wrote (and edited) actually looked like this;
imce ut;s tjere. everutjomg seens ti be fome, exceot tjat ,u rogjt fomgertoos leeo ,ossomg tje leus. ir ekse tuoe tje wrimg ketter.
Perhaps a strange version in French.
Vampires are still hot this season, lol. I hope angels are too!
On a brighter note! I almost have Marvin into the clutches of Maribeth in Chapter 11. Hallelujah!
I was listening to iTunes (as usual) tonight. Classic FM. A work came on--one that I'd heard before, long ago. One whose title I could never find. Classic FM is German, and they used to NOT list the pieces being streamed, like Classical CBC does. I clicked the screen to iTunes, and there it was. Joseph Canteloube-Chants d'Auvergne. Songs of the Auvergne. I thought it was a modern piece, by a living composer...maybe Karl Jenkins. No, a French composer who lived during the last quarter of the 19th century until the mid-20th.
The composition being played from the collection of Auvergne was "Bailero"...hauntingly beautiful. The orchestration is absolutely stunning; the mezzo-soprano's voice, and the lyrics in French, melted my soul.
I thought, How Canteloube must have loved the French countryside with everything in his soul to write something so, so gorgeous.
"Shepherd, the water divides us,
And I can't cross it,
Sing bailero lero,
Lero lero lero lero bailero lo."
How does God inspire men and women to create such beauty? Oh, that I could. Somehow I want to draw from that powerful piece, put it in Marvin's soul--into mine. TRY to make something of my writing approach the dignity and profoundness of works such as this.
I go to write, now.