Thursday, 22 May 2008

Boxes upon boxes, in the foritifed junk

I am sitting amid chaos, of the bric-a-brac kind. The floor barely visible, let along treadable to traverse my escape. This is the nature of a world of moving, and packing and taking one world into the next. All of these belongings, belong elsewhere to another one, and I haven't a clue how to make head nor tail of sense of it all.

It's also the reason for the diverted flow of energies and the lack of posting. I'm still doodling when given the chance, but otherwise I'm attempting to remain useful in a 'move this from here to there' kind of way. If only I were telekinetic...


I've been getting the sensations in the back of my mind to begin writing again. Maybe it's a summer thing, who knows but it's creeping back. I'd really like to know where to begin but I think that's like trying to figure out which shadow begins the darkness. Awfully pleasant metaphor there... Ah, metaphor. Of course. I plan on reading books about metaphor in my whiling away time down in Kelso, amongst the avid gaming and catching up with relatives of course. Both written or co-written by G. Lakoff, I'm hoping to further my understanding of the nature of metaphor, so that I can better write about it and make it the axis upon which my future works can spin.

There needs to be more 'where's' and 'what's' and 'when's' in the tale of metaphor. Everything begins with a dream though, where the Hatted Fool plummets in a spiral, ever quickening in his descent, racing toward... something. Perhaps it is an epiphany? Some moment of clarity and boom, suddenly there are feet. Hands. A train carriage. Discovery. Whispers. Strangers. Fear. 'Gators. Emptiness. Patiences. Fishing. A door. Bridges. And then.... a void of unknown, yet to be conceived possible potentiality...

Best get started!