Being a freelancer has its perks, but the concept of ‘working weekend’ takes on a whole new slant. It could be Monday, Friday or any other day today, and the only way I can tell the difference is that there are less people on gtalk to balance out the flow of my day. Otherwise, it’s just another day – more words, less brainz, about the same amount of tea.

Still, there has been one highlight or two this weekend to keep it from being a total write off. The most notable of these being my waffle date with a friend on Saturday morning. Having missed her birthday due to deadlines last month, and not having seen her until now, I wanted to do something special. So I got her a beautiful orchid that had the waiter and customers at Caramello’s smiling away, and then we tucked into the most heavenly waffles on the planet…

waffle heaven @ caramello's... pure bliss!

It was an hour of pure contentment, and I relished every second of it. I have also managed to utilise my late night chillax time more effectively, by reading rather than series slumming. I’ve managed to finish Darkly Dreaming Dexter (a surprisingly short and easy read, more thoughts on this to follow when I have the brain capacity to process my views), and am hoping to get a chance to start After Dark, my new Haruki Murakami. The trouble is, by the time 9 or 10pm comes along, I’ve generally been working for anything from 10 to 12 hours, if not longer – which is not all that conducive to things like ‘thinking’.

All the inspiration I regained lately is vanishing in the face of despondency and fatigue, and this ear thing is not helping. The last thing I feel like doing is giving more money to the medical profession, especially when I could be spending it on things like a new laptop or a decent office chair.

In all honesty, I am actually looking forward to Monday – at the very least, it means a new week that will hopefully bring some good stuff my way. Could do with some decent zen boosting!

Until then… it’s back to the grindstone I go. *sigh*

I’m a sucker for cool PSA’s and cartoon Gorillaz style ones with lots of swear words and gangsta rap sound tracks really take the cake. This is possibly one of the coolest things I have seen lately, and will be stuck in my head for a while I reckon.

It’s like a hip hop music video… with a purpose yo.

When I was at my sister’s on Saturday, I managed to raid her library and borrow one my favourite books, Songs of Enchantment by brilliant Nigerian poet and novelist Ben Okri.

Some call it magic realism, others say it’s animistic realism, but whatever you call it, Songs of Enchantment is an incredibly written story that blurs reality with the dream world.

Songs of Enchantment is a follow-up to Okri’s 1991 Booker Prize winning book, The Famished Road, and continues the story of Azaro the spirit child and his street vendor and laborer parents in a small rural Nigerian town. Politics, greed, poverty and violence intersperse with dreams and spirits, as Azaro does his best to live his life, while fighting the spirits constantly who try to keep him in the spirit world.

The story is rich and graphic, with awesome imagery and lots and lots of beautiful words. Okri has an incredible style, which has the same whimsical dream-like quality that Murakami has, even though the writing and stories are totally different. I love books that make me think, and I particularly enjoy books which don’t just tell a basic tale but use clever devices to get the story told, and have hidden meanings and metaphors.

It’s probably best to start with The Famished Road, but Songs of Enchantment can also be read on its own – it just doesn’t have the background, so can get a bit confusing at times. I read Famished Road many moons ago, and Songs of Enchantment almost as long ago, and remembered bits and pieces, but could still get into it easily. For such an intense book, it’s very easy to read, which helps.

Funny, I had just been wondering what on earth I could find to read that could live up to Murakami’s Kafka on the Shore, which I had recently finished, and Ben Okri is possibly one of the few writers that could fill that gap, so pretty stoked I found Songs of Enchantment.

Think I’ll take myself down to Serendipity Books on Long Street after payday, and see if I can stock up on some suitable classics – William Burroughs and John Irving, and perhaps even some Carlos Castaneda if my mind is ready to go back down that literary rabbit hole.

Or maybe I shall give my over-worked imagination a break and get some mindless pulp fiction or bodice rippers. Will have to see.