The COVID brain fog continues this week, but at least I can taste again. On Monday we went to JB and ate at this ridiculously fancy restaurant: Kayaupi by Naughty Bali. Actually we thought there would be babi guling but there wasn't, so we had gado gado, satay, and bebek goreng. It was really good, even with my mouth numb from the dentist.
On Tuesday to Thursday I went back to work. I met my friend and realised that I had nothing to report even after not meeting for a couple of months; i.e. there is not much going on in my life. I don't mean there's no action, exactly, because I've been busy planning the UK trip (interviewing housesitters, buying knitted beanies, etc.), but like... cultural and/or intellectual goings-on.
On Friday I lazed at home and we went for a market research focus group. On Saturday we caught up with Jon's friend and my parents. And today, Sunday, I went for yoga and then to work.
So, about the lack of inspiration...
I have been attending this online course on literary criticism, but in a completely half-assed way. The two excuses that come to mind are: (a) it's on ZZZZoom and (b) I had Covid almost the whole time. But I'm not sure I'm all that interested anymore in a writing "career".
I had trouble engaging with most of the course material. I agree with the project and idea of creative criticism in theory, but would I rouse myself to do it, myself? No. I'd rather spend the day grumbling on a rumbling train with Paul Theroux or tearing through England trying to solve a mystery with Sherlock Holmes. Maybe I'm just a philistine. Or maybe writing isn't an activity that even appeals to me all that much after all. (Yes, I'm writing now, but just artlessly recording events for posterity rather than crafting sentences with the love and care of an artisan.)
I have a few favourite pieces of literary criticism from the course though. Of course I loved David Foster Wallace on John Updike. Another favourite is D.H. Lawrence on Moby Dick. I think I read Sons & Lovers way too young; maybe I should give D.H. Lawrence a go again. And I also loved Dageberto Gilb on Cormac McCarthy, but I couldn't find it online.
Anyway, I guess this funk arises from the fact that I haven't been writing much at all, let alone gone on something as frivolous as an Artist Date. I remember bursting with ideas and inspiration and excitement back in November, when I was doing the Artist's Way.
Now that I think about it, I did do quite a lot this week. It's just that they're mostly admin things which don't really give you a sense of accomplishment. For example we did 4 interviews with potential housesitters, which was kinda tiring. Also I got round to posting my things on Carousell after, like, 3 months. There's still a mountain of similar things to do though.
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