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A Tuesday On & Off The Isle

One word to describe today: disconnected.

After posting last night’s blog post, I went to plug in my laptop when I realized I forgot my cord at home. Of course. The massive sludge did it. I blame the sludge (see: previous post).

I’m on the island, by the way. Day two has slipped away from me and I’m about to head to bed under the soft muffles of wind and voices from the couple lodging beside me. The walls are thin (I like this for the white noise it offers).

This morning — I did it — I got up at 6. Okay, 6:30. The sunrise, it tricked me. I stood on the pier in the photo below and I waited for it to appear. Two Canada geese and some ducks hung out with me. I watched the clouds turn orange as 6:56 rolled round and disappeared indiscriminately.

“Huh,” I said. “I guess I can’t see the sunrise from here.” I made a plan to bike to the Toronto side of the island tomorrow. I have a bad memory. Did I see the actual sun rise when I was here last, working overnights on Sensitive Skin? I couldn’t remember.

As I walked back to the art centre for coffee I thought, for some reason, that I should turn around and double check that the sun is, in fact, not rising. I did, and I laughed. Out loud. Of course. The sun was there, right where I thought it would be.

“You’re so sneaky!!!” I said, like it was a kid playing peek-a-boo. (No, really, I said that.)

andreawrobel_artscape_12

I was happy to see it changed so little since it left last night. Despite the direction, my photos are very similar:

I spent the morning in bed taking stock of where I’m at with my book using sticky notes and going over my first two chapters. I wanted to world build today. I was doing well, hurdling through chapter 1, noting holes, fixing confusing sentences, highlighting elements I wanted to add or clarify after my critique session during my writing group…

…but my partner called with news that the flu had befallen our apartment and that there’s no way my laptop cord would make it to the ferry today.

“That’s okay! I’ll get you kombucha,” I said. “And more snacks… for me.”

Also after posting last night’s blog post, I ate all my snacks.

I was back on the island by 3:45pm having spent an hour at the ferry terminal not knowing there’s a break in ferry travel 2-3:30pm. I ate all the snacks I bought — no, I’m kidding — imagine!? (I ate some.)

I made stew upon returning and hunkered down in my bunker with chapter 2 before heading out for tonight’s sunset.

Speckles of cold droplets teased me all day as I biked and it still hasn’t rained yet, on the mainland or on the isle. Thin cloud matter stretched across the sky and I filmed waves and treetops with my DSLR while the sunset passed unknowingly.

I travelled all around the arts centre filming treetops until I stood before the red door of the light house that many people have told me is haunted. I looked through the keyhole (I always do). Black.

One time I thought I saw a shadow in the window atop the door, and I believe my eyes. I waited for it to show itself to me again, but nothing happened.

andreawrobel_artscape_16

It was windy. I thought about doors, and the way some tree branches curve at the tips. How they remind me of claws; gangly finger bones of spirits that have passed through here before me reaching out, looking for someone or something to grab on to tightly. I never get too close, but I like to stare at them; follow their fingers to their hands to their arms to their bodies and back to their tips. I’ve always loved the way bare winter branches look pressed against the sky. You’ve got to look up for that.

I thought about incorporating this into my book — doors and branches.

I came back to quiet hallways. In the kitchen I met Marco who’s living in a portable with two other visual artists. I asked if they had a washroom out there, because I’ve been wondering since yesterday. They don’t.

In the kitchen I grabbed the cutest little cup for my wine (see photo below).

Back in my room I ate more snacks. “Am I stress eating?” I wondered. I might be. My stew had lentils in it for a reason (very filling).

I’m going to wake eagerly for tomorrow’s sunrise. I work best fuelled by dreamspace and coffee, and I’m going to spend the entire day writing.

With that, I bid you adieu February. You are always the hardest month for me.

 

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