I confess I have been a bit under the weather, however, this is not the only reason I am a bit late in posting.

I have discovered a few things about the nature of this kind of work:

First, I believe one objective was not entirely well thought out. Writing a sonnet every day, is something that can be accomplished in less than seven days. For that reason, I believe the weekend was created (perhaps by God?) In any case, working seven days a week is a recipe for ultimate disaster. I had the notion a few weeks ago, to write ahead, so that I could take the weekend–much like a normal working fellow, regardless of the freelance nature of my chosen profession.  Which, alas, must be (except for kisses) its own reward.

I think I was close to sanity in that idea. I believe I must take the weekend, regardless of whether I have two extra sonnets written. I believe that will increase my output rather than decrease it. I really do love writing these sublime fourteen line works (by that I mean the form, in all its varieties are sublime) In this way, I believe that endeavouring to write ahead on the weekdays will feel like less of a treadmill, or walking uphill on a “down” escalator, if I know the weekends are free.

I will probably catch myself up in no time if I consider things in this way.

There is of course life, as it intervenes in work, as vice versa.  Then there is work; work that intervenes in other work.  And, as well, I find the holidays are taking quite a lot out of me this year for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that I find I am more enthusiastically meeting them this year.

But there is another culprit–although, truly, all culprits are, in fact, me. However I have been playing with my birthday present. Recently I have acquired all the hardware necessary to do so. (I was short a few widgets and a few specialised cables.)  And the whole affair is now quite addictive, although I don’t wish it to be a case of fewer sonnets, more sonatas!!

Still I have made some references to my recent love and obsession for Domenico Scarlatti, and the 555 sonatas that he wrote for his Princess (Maria Barbara, who became Queen of Portugal to King Ferdinand the Wise, although I cannot now remember what number he was–ah well, my memory came up blank but google says he was Ferdinand the IVth)

In a few minutes though I’m going to prop myself up in bed and write one or two or three sonnets.  I’m still resisting using my coma sonnets for… well…  anything but a coma, I suppose!

Perhaps, though I shall post some music as well…   I shall have to investigate how that may best be done.  I have recently recorded a few very rough, unedited, hardly mastered pieces due to my desire to demonstrate this technology to an engineer friend of ours.  So perhaps I will share it, such as it is, with everyone.