Am finally able to resurface, but just a bit. Papers and assignments and tests are just about over with, and now it's time to switch into full gear on my dissertation. Which would be awesome, had I any solid research together (other than just my primary sources), an outline, some sort of thesis statement, but as of right now I have 5 versions of the same folktale (yay for that, plus I think I can find maybe 2 more), a vague idea of what I think is cool about these, and what I'd like to write about. I have no idea how I am going to get 15, 000 words. Especially since I haven't actually met with my advisor in about 6 or 7 weeks. Yeah. I'm starting to get freaked out, nevermind the annotated bibliography that's due a week tomorrow (and has to be 3, 000 words). Argh.
I have developed a great love of notes at the back of books and people's bibliographies. Seriously, they are awesomeness incarnate, and the only firm hold I have on my topic right now.
At least writing has returned to me. I've been a black hole of creativity, Nothing happening, other than me muttering randomly at my flatmates about Eirik's Saga and immrama, or explaining all the permutations of Middle Welsh verbs. I have this idea for a new project that's coming together, have four poems written that actually work (for the most part), and a whole bunch of others that are just waiting to be written.
Was trying to organize my documents folder and discovered a random poem. It was slightly surreal. I have this really bad habit of giving all of my files really cryptic titles, or random and meaningless titles, so it's almost impossible to know what is what. Thus, there was a word document that I've been seeing for ages that I actually thought was perhaps one of the remnants from creative writing last year that I hadn't bothered to delete yet (yes, I am *that* lazy). So, much to my surprise, after opening it up, I realized that it was actually one of my poems. And one that I actually quite like. And I discovered that the reason why it had such a misleading title, and it took me a little ways into the poem to remember it was mine (is that bad? i guess it's just that i have been told that i have such a distinctive style and this is a big departure), was b/c it was my version of a poetic rant about all of the shit that had to be endured last year in creative writing. Does that make me a bitch? Because the poem is pretty bitchy, or caustic, or whatever. It was a nice surprise to find it.