Life here is very, very ordinary at the moment, and I enjoy and cherish ordinariness enormously. I have a new project and in the last two weeks have had a huge burst of creativity which I think sprang from the very fact that nothing exciting is happening. I have quite surprised myself with my output, although the rest of the family remain as ordinarily unperturbed as ever by the sheer amount of stuff in progress which hampers their movements around various rooms. I, on the other hand, have been having a lovely time with colours and textiles, skills and ideas, books and words, friends and family. Many people say that walking helps them with their ideas, especially writing ideas, and I find it's the same with routine which creates a gentle rhythm that frees the mind and allows new ideas to germinate and develop.
Ordinariness has a lot going for it. It sounds dull, worthy, and boring, but just this week I have been listening to the wonderful, very gorgeous Hugh Bonneville reading Philip Larkin's Letters to Monica on Radio 4 (I never thought PL would make me laugh, but his letters do) and was intrigued by the contrast between his remarkable, outwardly ordinary, life as a librarian, and his poetic output. And there is nothing better than a novel about ordinary lives, ordinary people and ordinary days - just look at The Fortnight in September for a brilliant evocation of the depths and interests of ordinariness.
The only issue I have with ordinariness is which photo to use to illustrate it. I feel it should be a pile of homework books, a mountain of washing, Tom playing rugby, Alice in her Saturday job uniform, Phoebe with her massive headphones on, Simon with his feet up and eating as many biscuits as he can hold in his hand, me watching Mad Men. Only Martin Parr could do this properly, so I'm sticking with some extraordinarily bright and totally unseasonal roses which I often buy when life is very happily ordinary.
Loved your post today Jane! I'm not sure that you should call a creating burst 'ordinary' though- I'd call it pretty delightful if I was you. There is something incredibly comforting about everydayness though - no big dramas or emergencies to deal with, no untoward stress and just the gentle plodding on of everyday life!
Posted by: Helen in Switzerland | November 12, 2010 at 12:07
Ordinary is good. It's the backdrop for events. And the colorful, out-of-season roses are a lovely counterpoint to your ordinariness post!
Posted by: Laura | November 12, 2010 at 15:46
I LOVE the mundane, the usual, the boring stuff of life. Truly! I think it's the mark of a happy person to revel in the small stuff and to be open gently to the big at a later date.
Posted by: jen | November 12, 2010 at 18:10
I love travelling , discovering new places and revisiting old favourites but sometimes switching off is good too .
Ordinariness can be feet up , the crossword and some old familiar music .
Posted by: SmitoniusAndSonata | November 12, 2010 at 20:49
I agree. Somehow ordinary life can allow one to open up to possibilities. Maybe it gives the right environment to foster creativity. It truly is something to be thankful for.
Love those candy bright roses. They seem far from ordinary, but oh-so delicious.
Posted by: Katherine | November 12, 2010 at 21:14
Ordinariness is wonderful. People who lead a steady and unsurpriseful (is this a real word??) life have a lot to be thankful for. That is my aim - from next year onwards I shall lead a dull, boring and lovely life. Cannot wait!
Posted by: Jaana / Wild Rose Consulting | November 12, 2010 at 21:59
i feel exactly the same about seasons of ordinariness in my life. too much excitement = overstimulation, stress, no savoring of anything. you described the joy of the ordinary so aptly. definitely not "dull, worthy, and boring" - one of the reasons i like you so much, jane. =)
Posted by: hydee ann | November 12, 2010 at 23:21
It has become common to use ordinary as a negative, which is foolish. Ordinary is rare and special. The reverse of the curse of living in interesting times, to live an ordinary life can only be special.
Yet no rose, nor indeed any flower, can ever be ordinary.
Posted by: MissHeliotrope | November 13, 2010 at 00:00
I love your way with words.
Posted by: maggie | November 13, 2010 at 10:37
I'm with you all the way, especially on Mad Men. Don't think that you need Martin Parr though, your photos are ace
Posted by: oxslip | November 14, 2010 at 16:57
Enjoying your page.....I love Philip Larkin so observant & a fellow Coventrian.... Hugh Bonnerville played Philip Larkin in a BBC drama of the poets life twas very good
Posted by: the upholstress | November 14, 2010 at 18:22
I love these roses-really gorgeous!
Posted by: Scarlett | November 14, 2010 at 19:20
Fabulous!!!!!!!!
Posted by: jacky | November 15, 2010 at 11:19
Good morning Jane
I am sat on bed writing this,overlooking the sea ,listening to the fishing boats go out ,feeling the warmth through my window another sunny day,like these lovely things I always have you to read at well,priceless.
Anix
Posted by: Annie legg | November 16, 2010 at 10:16
Hi Jane, at the risk of sounding very presumptuous, I see those wonderful hot pinks, oranges and zingy yellows as part of your palette, and so as a way of illustrating what 'ordinary' is to you, they are very apt.
Posted by: Charlotte | November 16, 2010 at 11:11
Delighted to have found your delightful blog. I wonder if by ordinariness you are thinking of what the poet Ivor Gurney called, "the dearness of common things."
Posted by: Neil | November 18, 2010 at 14:32