It is a very lowering thing to be brushing one's teeth of a morning, pondering a six-month-stalled novel-project, and realize that one's worries about (the lack of) a narrative drive can be fixed with the addition of one key element from the source of your inspiration -- not easily fixed, perhaps, but fixed. Because one is an idiot not to have seen it.
But it is also invigorating even on a day filled with work and work and work, and so, quickly,
nine things of joy, nine things to make me say Viva!:
*the Dog of the House rolling herself up in a throw as creamy-soft as she is
*the neighborhood hawk soaring low over my backyard
*the pop of azaleas just a day or two away from bloom, hints of fuchsia and pink amidst cold-dampened green
*my neighbor's grey cat, lounging on a tree stump in my backyard, his fur lit silver by the sun
*wearing a blue choker of my mother's today, all costume sparkle on a sunny day
*
the Victorian-to-Edwardian daywear John Galliano showed in his Christian Dior show (as seen in this Hilary Alexander piece for The Daily Telegraph)
*
this dashing gentleman in a hat, as seen on The Sartorialist, and imagining a story for him
*in fact, thinking about spies and smiles, about a streetside cafe and a week-old copy of the Times of London with the word "incommunicado" written in a flowing ink just above the masthead
*in fact, thinking about someone dropping her glove and then picking up the paper with a casual air, seen only by the dashing man in the hat
What is making you say Viva! today?