My blogging has been scattered and superficial this week as I've spent many hours in a dark AVID edit suite chopping together the rough cut of a video for Kurn Hattin Home, a residential school for kids with problems at home (the homelife is usually the problem, and not the child). The edit is based on shooting over the course of a year, and many hours of footage. It takes a lot of concentration and creative energy.
That being said, I've always found this week of August to be the quietest of the year. Here in Middletown, Wesleyan's summer programs are over, students haven't arrived, and the energy is poured into preparing buildings for the arrival of students in a few weeks.
The New England Folk Festival season is temporarily in hiatus. Somehow, no one has ever claimed this second week of August as the logical or reasonable time for a festival (it's been claimed by the Newport Jazz Festival for several decades), and while it's usually hot, dank and humid, this weekend would have proven to be a delightful one in which to sit and listen to music.
Lots of folks are vacationing, and I sit at home wondering why my tomatoes haven't ripened (I've got a Brandywine vine that hasn't put out even a single tomato bloom - help).
And somehow, I've been up every night this week at 3, unable to sleep. It's taken me nearly all the way through one of my summer passions, the latest James Lee Burke novel, Swan Peak, popcorn crime literature featuring Cajun detective Dave Robichaux.
And the news media has nothing better to do then pursue pitiful John Edwards.
No comments:
Post a Comment