Moving Along

Time is passing, one beat and one moment trailing after the other - its pace is constant in so far as we wish to quantify and measure it. Yet retrospectfully it can travel by us, if we let it. Like a river from an indistinguishable source, it collides with us in rushes of tense action and then subsides as quickly. I feel like I'm caught in this rush again. Everything takes upon itself a surreality, as though moving fatally in slow motion.

I'm moving into another new flat - I haven't spent longer than a year in any one place for the last three years. Pretty normal for a student I'd assume though. However this is the first time that I will have been my choice to move, that is, it would have been if my landlord had given me the option. I assume, that he assumed, that I didn't wish to continue the lease. I didn't, so why still do I find a problem in this situation? I was not given the choice I'd sought for, but indirectly I'd made it in my silence.

Due to the move, packing has been essential. A life jigsaw - like 3 dimensional tetris, I've watched and been involved in the packing of my life into boxes. Neat, snug, ordered comfort. All the trimmings of home. There are the books I've yet to read, taken from the book case I've yet to move. There are the dozens of half filled sketchbooks to cart around - an essential collection. There is the console I hardly play, along with the tv I never have time to watch. There are the countless garments that have lost sight of fashion, and continued to haunt my carpeted floor. I keep forgetting what colour my carpet is.

We move on Saturday. We pay the money we don't have, to the friendly people we've only just met. So much trust is gathered in their plentiful smiles and polite demeanour. Benevolent Belvoir. Letting Life Savers. They hold the keys to the rest of our lives.

I can't wait to set up my new office/study/art room. Having constantly blended my surroundings into both recreation and workspace for the last 3 years, it'll be a change to have walls seperate these areas of my life. Plus I'll now have a lounge to lounge in, score.

That's about it for now - Uni begins in September - Honours Horrors commence after that. Hoozah.

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!