There’s a small dark cloud upon the horizon.
7.45 am: A communion. Things come into sharper focus, suddenly. Intuitions become realisations. Instincts become rationalisations. Hopes prove to be unfounded. The road ahead vanishes a few metres in front of your feet. And, the grounds for optimism fall away, like a sink hole, beneath them. Renunciation and retreat; repentance and resistance; laying aside and running forward, with patience.
9.15 am: A visit to the hairdressers. Having a haircut earths me, temporarily. I’m forced to consider myself in a mirror for longer than I’ve either the occasion or inclination at home. Sans spectacles, I look unfocussed, vulnerable, and uncomfortable. Worse, I see (clearly) the truth of it. 10.30 am: Back at my desk, I press on with the text for The Biblical Record CD.
I reverted to old-school analogue writing, and thinking at the end of a pencil (as one does in drawing):
I consulted a colleague from the Department of History and Welsh History regarding a Welsh translation of ‘The Biblical Record’. The title encapsulates an ambiguity that references the concepts both of vinyl and an historical account. On, then, with the main text (1,000 words max.)
1.30 pm: I retrieved parcels from the School in readiness for tomorrow’s computer build at Chateau Harvey:
2.30 pm: My colleague, Dr Eryn White, had responded to my earlier request for a Welsh translation. She wrote, thoughtfully and definitively. Aren’t languages fascinating:
That’s an interesting question and a clever title in English. ‘Record’ is used in Welsh for vinyl records etc. and although the Welsh word for a historical record would be ‘cofnod’, the loan word ‘record’ is possible in that sense as well. So, it may be that your best translation would be ‘Y Record Beiblaidd’. I think it has to be that to describe a sound recording like this and it does also have the same potential additional implications as the English.
My concentration lapsed periodically, as I was forced to deal with incoming emails, reports, requests for information, and announcements. (I’ve found it difficult to extricate myself from departmental matters at the close of this academic year.) 4.15 pm: I dozed for fifteen minutes in my rocking chair, and heard the sound of steam train, in the far distance, returning from Devil’s Bridge. While looking at this diary’s site stats, afterwards (which I do periodically), I noticed something and, then, I remembered fondly and searched wistfully. (‘I know … I know. I understand.’)
7.30 pm: Back to postgraduate admin, further requests for information, and an evening spent in anticipation of my sons’ return for the weekend, later on tonight. ‘Too much in my heart’:
