Remember that paper I was bemoaning on Saturday? It still isn’t written, but today I’m going to hole myself up in the library and make it happen. It’s supposed to be a cross-disciplinary essay, comparing an artist, a writer, and a composer. We were given a list of seven or eight of each, and we get to choose who we write about, so I’m comparing Vermeer, Dante, and Monteverdi.
Crunch time like this is always slightly frustrating because I end up working fewer hours (my work schedule is completely up to me), and then there are less pennies clinking in the coffer. (I admittedly don’t really care about money, but it’s kind of a necessity for paying rent and buying food and stuff like that. ~sigh~) Although freedom to work is nice, I think I’d be better off with set, rigid hours; otherwise it’s too easy to not care. If I had a wife and kids to support, the story would be different, of course. But I don’t, and there is something wistfully romantic about starving artists, isn’t there? ;)
A thought from yesterday: I don’t mind fasting (going without food and water for a period of twenty-four hours as a spiritual devotion), but why oh why does my stomach have to grumble at the most inopportune moments in church? During the hymns it doesn’t matter because the bass on the organ drowns everything out, but that’s not when it happens. No, it strikes precisely during the two seconds of silence in Sunday School while the teacher is waiting for an answer, or during the sacrament, or when I’m helping the bishop set apart someone. Anybody know any good ways to silence one’s stomach?
Side note: this is my 361st post, and there are currently 225 comments. I don’t know what that’s worth — five cents, maybe six? — but in five hundred years it’ll at least have the glamour of the remote past. :)
Ah, I have so many other posts I want to write (four or five other topics just from yesterday alone), but alack, I must go write that paper. I’ve been dreading it for a while, and I suppose it will continue to weigh upon me until I free myself of its shackles by turning it in. I am looking forward to the actual writing of it, granted, since I rather like writing. As if you couldn’t tell. :) And I even like the research. Hmm. What is it that I dread, then? I suppose it’s the intermediate state of not knowing what on earth I’m going to write about (the thesis) and how I’ll fill up ten pages. And even then it’s not the filling ten pages that’s hard, it’s filling ten pages with something more substantial than cloudwisps. Well, I could sit here writing about it all day, but that won’t get me anywhere. (Holing one’s self up in the library has a delicious starving-artist feel to it, and it’s that feeling which I’m going to cling to until I finish this paper. :))
[tags]Vermeer, Dante, Monteverdi[/tags]
Throw in your two cents