There is a trope, frequent in anime and not uncommon in fantasy novels, where a sweet and gentle person (or cat-like companion) has a hidden self that is a centuries old monster. I found myself considering how the reverse would look, and realized: isn't that what the amnesia trope is? Regarding Henry, as the prime example. Henry with amnesia is sweet and gentle, but original Henry was not a nice person.

So here we have a powerful monster or sorcerer, but their truer, hidden self is a sweetheart.

Wait, isn't that like when the dragon is a princess under a curse? But with the variation that she has to stay a dragon, most of the time, even when the curse is broken?

I find myself laughing at the idea of a person who goes around being terrifying as a false self, and when called to action becomes a chickadee. The idea that the peaceful one is the more powerful form of the two and that the scary one functions better in the daily world.

During dinner on Easter, I put on "Spring" (Vivaldi) like a basic bitch, but totally enjoyed it. Yeah, still makes me feel 17.

Today since I actually had time to be deliberate about Baroque music, I chose one of the early composers, Claudio Monteverde.

I am currently clawing the walls over his madrigals. And internally screaming about not knowing that they existed until now. Also, today I learned that Shakespeare did not make up a fake country called Mantua; Mantua is a real Italian city. And OMG, so is Verona! That... is the funniest thing to me. I always thought that Verona was fake-Venice.

Apparently, the only fictional Shakespearean countries are Arden and Romance.

EDIT: Oh heck, I recognize this one! (Amor) 

It's after 9pm and the only writing I have been able to do has been on my phone during lunch, and later before dinner with my brother. He didn't have a copy of his vacc card, so the evening drew out longer, and then past the 7:30 "go home" time I had given him.

I don't usually get sabotaged until later in the month, but it is ALWAYS family obligation.

This bus still bounces excessively.

I was trying to write a post but this bus is bouncing too much.

*Scary dream
*Break from Discord server
*Poetry

My day-to-day is pretty much devoid of validation or praise, and I don't know how to fix that. There isn't even payout on the things that should generate mild affirmation.

It stands out as a major highlight that last week, my niece brainstormed a movie plot over take-out, and we wrapped it up wishing it were a real movie. The creative zone alone was something I keep trying to make happen in my life (with low success).

I've been over two years with my job and I know my bosses aren't the kind to give praise. But I can't seem to make it happen in my personal life, either.

I don't know if I can take
this Joe Biden Kamala Harris win
AND
my ship becoming canon,

Lately, I've received comments on so many of my fanfics, especially on old ones, that I feel like the weird cosmo in the back yard that has not produced flowers. Let me back up a sec...

So this spring, yes seventy-nine years ago back in March 2020, before the Stay at Home order, I cleared a patch of weedy grass and covered the cold earth with wildflower seeds. I put them in too densely because, me being Killer of Plants, I didn't think they would all sprout, let alone thrive. And boy howdy did they thrive! It was an excellent seed assortment, with blooms beginning in April-ish and hitting a peak in July. In the mix were cosmos, a daisy-like flower that blooms in late summer and autumn.

The cosmos lost ground to the bachelor buttons and poppies. They were small and sparse. Except for two. Two plants grew as thick as giant sunflowers, stems an inch thick an about four feet tall. As of early September, they had no evidence of flowering at all.

The jungle of bachelor buttons exhausted in September. They were still blooming, but pretty much done, and I cleared the patch of spent plants a few weeks ago, so that the monster cosmos would maybe produce flowers. I also tossed down some flower food granules that we've had around.

The wind and rain came, and the cosmos "trees" tipped over. I put in support. One fell over again in the heavy rain. That one, however, is showing flower buds now all over, and this morning -- a bloom! With a drowsy, wet bumblebee clinging to it.

The other one still is all green with no indications of producing flowers.

It's like the two wolves within you thing, but with flowers. I fed them both! And it's kind of that way with writing. Am I going to do it? Am I going to have a burst of updates and finished Works-in-Progess? Or am I just going to keep standing here, contemplating the sky, until winter comes?

I had no idea spray paint could be so satisfying.

This summer, I am tackling house painting projects. Well, I dot painted some rocks, but the real projects are the front door and the half-bathroom. As an "audition" so that my brother-in-law will trust me to paint anything, I'm painting the back/kitchen door.

Not only painting. It's an old door in a non-standard size, so even though it should be replaced, it can't easily be replaced. I used painters putty to patch some of the damaged area at the bottom. I didn't realize using putty would draw on my polymer clay crafting experience, but it did. Now that the door has three coats of primer to cover the ugly, faded green it was, I'm just waiting for my blue paint to arrive. Next week's weather is anticipated to be painting-friendly. I have a loose plan to paint both doors on Tuesday, color for the back, primer for the front. Color for the front, too, if time & energy allows.

I'm in such lousy physical shape that I was sweatin'. It was a workout. The bathroom project is daunting, because of all the cleaning and scraping/sanding around the windows that it needs. But I've got maybe three months before the days turn less optimal for paint drying well.