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In the hope of balloons tied to the letterbox

So last week I thought thinking about what I wanted to know was hard, and it is, but this week I have found something equally bemusing; thinking about how to work, how to turn an idea into something more than just that. What does it mean to realise a thought in real time and space and release it from the snug surrounds of my mind? How on earth, yes on the earth, do we do that? How do you begin to create when you aren’t even sure the precise direction you are headed? It is a frightening (but maybe just a little bit exciting) prospect.
I can’t drive, but I have been a passenger in cars for many many years so feel I am somewhat at liberty to use the proceeding analogy: How I feel right now is a little akin to driving toward a birthday party in a house you don’t know, in a street you are unfamilar, in a suburb you have only heard of in passing, in a direction you vaguely remember, through thick morning fog (yes, it’s a morning party) when the demistifier (love that word- wish I could buy one for general life) in your car is broken. That is sort of how I feel at this point. And did I mention the fog is thick? Very thick indeed. So thick it’s moisture brings small tears to my eyes sometimes. But, there is a party somewhere, with cake (I hope), so I must keep trying, knowing that the balloons tied to the letterbox will appear when I least expect.

One Response

  1. stitchi says:

    I feel the same – I cant drive -__-!
    kinda feels really dependant on other people, thou i do like to walk distances and it is good for the environment. sometimes i feel ok about it cos i earn brownie points with my green thumb.