New posts from actuallyfinishing.blog
Poetry
I rarely ever listen to or pay any real attention to lyrics in songs, not consciously at least. I’ll find myself singing them later, so at least some part of my brain does, but in the moment I’m focusing on how they fit into the song. The melody, the rhythm, the harmonies behind it, the place each have in the mix. One big soundscape.
It’s why I listen to a fair amount of non-English language songs, largely J-rock or J-pop, with a smattering of other European countries. On the other hand, it’s also why I’ve long struggled to write lyrics to any songs I’ve written. I can hear the cadence in my head, beat it out on the desk, but any time I put pen to paper it just feels hollow. Devoid of meaning, just words for the sake of words.
On the other side, there was poetry. That I could do.
One of the reasons I keep some kind of notebook with me at all times is I’ll get just snippets pop up in my head. Two or three lines of rhymes or feelings, a snippet of dialogue, a direction in which to go. Every now and then I’d review them, see which ones still have a place in my brain, and try and flesh it out.
And I was kind of okay at it. Put some online, got some praise. In particular a war one I wrote around Remembrance Day that I can neither find nor remember. I’d do open mic nights locally and not totally bomb, which is a solid minimum result. Then I just kind of stopped.
One of the things I’ve been trying to do a lot more recently is avoid over intellectualising things; change course from treating everything like it’s a deep intellectual puzzle that needs analysis and just see if the surface diagnosis fits. In this case, it is that simple: the open mic night closed, so I fell out of that routine, depression and neurodivergence did their work on distracting me from it, and I never allowed myself to go deep in process. It didn’t worm its way into my core.
And I was alone. Not truly, I had friends, I have family, but on this I was alone. I had no friends trying to do the same thing, no mentor I could learn from, and I didn’t have the social skills to try and make one. I was ‘on the breadline’ poor, so taking classes was out of the question, and while there were libraries and books, I had no idea what I was looking for, especially as I was so wrapped up in my perfectionist ‘I can do all the things if I try’ mindset.
But times change and so do I. I may not be surrounded still by poets and artists, but I can change that, even if it’s digital interactions over physical in the short term. I can lean back into my curiosity, expand myself out there again. I’ve got my Zettelkasten ready to accept snippets to flick through, and collect snippets from poetry that resonates with me. And I’ve got a much better selection of research tools than I did 15 years ago, not to mention a much better understanding of my self, how I tick, and how to get around my shortcomings.
I need to finish the three books I currently have on the go, but after that, I’ll be buying/adding A Poetry Handbook by Mary Oliver and How to Write One Song by Jeff Tweedy as a starting point. Then we’ll go from there.
Every time I cook a roast, I plan it all in advance. Chicken cook time, veg prep time, all of it.
And every time, without fail, I forget to account for parboiling the potatoes, adding an extra half hour or so.
So, so frustrating.
I have not put as much time into reading as I’d have liked this month, but I’m determined to finish a second book before Friday. Just a few hours will do the trick.
Safari on iOS 26 has been so buggy for me I’ve done the unthinkable - downloaded Firefox.
Leonardo Da Vinci by Walter Isaacson
Note: this review is for the Audible version read by Alfred Molina. While that doesn’t necessarily affect the content, there is obviously a different experience between listening to a wonderful voice through your headphones and reading 624 pages. Long either way, but still a different experience.
I’ve mentioned before that this one has been on my read list for about 8 years now. I got it after listening to the Steve Jobs biography, also by Isaacson, having been taken with the writing style and thinking that biographies might be for me after all. I think I lasted about half an hour before realising that it probably wasn’t smart to follow a 27 hour audiobook with a 17 hour one; burn out is real.
I’m glad I didn’t return it though, because it’s easily one of the best books I’ve read for a while. It’s by no means an academic level historical review of his life; at several points Isaacson will discuss various theories about a painting or a relationship before offering his own non-expert opinion, so if you’re looking for a definitive article, this ain’t it.
What it is though is a fascinating view of the life and work of one of history’s most famous polymaths. It follows his life from being raised as an illegitimate son of a notary and his apprenticeship under Verrocchio, to his various times spent in Florence, Milan, Rome, and ultimately France. Along the way, Isaacson covers notes and background on his most prominent works, culminating in the seminal Mona Lisa, but also the various works and commissions he started but failed to complete.
The latter point if part of what really interested me along the way though: the way Da Vinci worked. Isaacson regularly reviews and quotes from the many, many notebooks Da Vinci left behind, covering his famous to-do lists, to observations he made of nature and anatomy and how he applied them to his art (like noting how the muscles of the face worked and applied to facial expressions), to the personal notes he left, including arguments with his young apprentice/partner, Salai.
He doesn’t just talk about genius, but of Da Vinci’s inherent curiosity he held towards all things and his pursuit of that knowledge, however controversial or heretical it may have been at the time. Rather than being fully irreverent to his legendary status, Isaacson humanises Da Vinci, pointing out his distracted nature, more inclined to procrastination and flights of fancy than intense focus. From dropped projects, to enquiries leading to nowhere, to even his eventual disinterest in the thing he’s most famous for, his paintings, compared to his quest for the answers to the universe, all in the aim of slaking his curiosity.
Again, if you want an academic text on the life and work of Leonardo Da Vinci, it probably shouldn’t surprise you that a New York Times bestseller isn’t for you. As a pop-history book though, I highly recommend it. For me personally, it’s really helped reinforce something I’ve been trying to convince myself of for some time: to actually engage in my curiosity, to try and learn and widen the scope of my knowledge, rather than convince myself that it’s pointless, or I won’t have time.
So on a personal level, 10/10.
I just held in my hands a second edition copy of the each book in the Lord of the Rings in near immaculate condition. I have literal goosebumps.