It offers some ease to come home to Joni Mitchell's Blue and hear it on my CD player on which, after several years, I have discovered the 'surround' feature. It makes every record sound 25-50% better. I've not been adventurous in buying up second hand Joni discs, only playing safe and acquiring those I had in previous formats but she is well worth it.
Furthermore, these wise words, by Lindsay Garbutt talking about Doug Anderson on Harriet, the Blog,
What I’m looking for is poetry that makes me want to write poems. When a poet writes a fine poem, he uncovers the spring where all good poetry comes from. And in spite of the squabbling within the tribe, poets, at their best, are helping each other find their way back to that spring.
I'm not sure it should say 'he' there but otherwise, that's good and any underlying preciousness is easily forgiven.
And yesterday, once I arrived on something to say, I rapidly produced a poem for the poetry club competition, perhaps not a masterpiece but comptent versification. I can't share it here yet but if I've still written nothing else new by September, I'll let it see the light of day then whatever the outcome of the competition.
And such consolations, these loose abstractions from the nerve-jangling grind, are overwhelmingly welcome. I'm not sure what people who don't have them do without them.