It's so hard to write these days and I miss those times when words just poured out without effort. Now I have to be somewhere far away and unfamiliar.
Still plagued by depression and loneliness; the loneliness of being surrounded by people; there are still moments of delight. One of these was being included among the dedications in Lenni Sanders' collection of poems Poacher. out, My brother Bob came to stay for a couple of nights and we visited Coniston, took a trip on the Steam Yacht Gondola and then went to Ruskin's house, Brentwood. I realised how little I knew of Ruskin.While I respected a lot of what he stood for he was not a person I greatly admired. I have only read brief extracts of his writing and a bit about his involvement with the workers education movement and his championing of Turner and the Pre Raphaelites. I knew nothing of his later disillusionment and depression and found something about it rather irritating. An irritation caused by an over expectant idealism. My disillusionment and depression has the opposite cause. My lowest expectations confirmed. Most of the time, but there are always those wonderful exceptions. Like Auden's cloudless night.
It's so hard to write these days and I miss those times when words just poured out without effort. Now I have to be somewhere far away and unfamiliar.
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