I like it here, early in the morning when there’s hardly anybody else around yet, just some librarians and me. Off the early bus, now there’s light in the mornings, and up the stairs to my place on the second floor. Which is not really my place, but it always is this early in the morning. Like it was all the way through last year, my first year here doing all those MA modules and essays. Mostly here, all read and written here. And whenever I needed a book about something I’d barely heard of until then I’d look it up on my phone or my laptop then I’d walk along and get it. Which is an astonishment. Walking around the early morning library like it’s mine. Which it is, even when it gets crowded later, but especially now this early in the morning. A continuing feeling of intense joy and good fortune to be able to do this. I like it here.
This morning the light is especially lovely here on the bridge between the two library buildings where I like it best. I think best in good light and this is beautiful. As if some ‘soft sunlight technician’ that you sometimes see on film credits is at work outside making the place perfect for my photographs, these photographs around this writing.
Outside there are hardly any people. Because it’s early, and because of the national lecturer’s strike, this end of the University’s almost shut down except for in here. I’m supporting the strike and would never break it, but I’m ok in here in the library doing my work. Out somedays for teach-out strike lectures then back here to write.
I have my stuff with me here on my small table. Morning coffee from downstairs, my current field notes book, up to number 7 of these now, and my headphones. I open up my laptop and put my headphones on:
“Power on. Bluetooth connected.”
I start my current ‘Music to Write By’ playlist, up to number 8 of these. Beginning with Aaron Copeland’s ‘Billy the Kid Ballet’ as I open up my Scrivener folder ready for the day’s writing. My current reading next to me too. Lewis Mumford’s lovely book from 1923, reads like poetry to me. I can’t write without reading.
Today I write this first to get my writing going. These few hundred words of intense happiness. For the being here. Early on this morning, on this day, in this life, right now. I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.
I like it here. Samuel Barber’s ‘Concerto for Violin and Orchestra’ beginning as I press ‘publish’ on WordPress and get on with the rest of my writing day.
More university writing here at ‘Field Notes for Utopia’