Thought becomes substance: ink on pulp, consequently timber. Trees fell so I could scribble. Quill and ink must have been such a mess. And…dip-scratch scratch scr- dip. Think for the next four or six syllables-dip- scratch scratch scra -dip- tch. An active writer thus.
Besides parchment supply worries plus the 3rd wing feathers of geese for the quills! plus candlelight flickering, hopefully in a draught free room, a chair, a desk, and the inevitable research materials.
A viewpoint which must have existed then as now: ‘Never had much use for writin’ nor readin’ for that matter’.
Ideas happen in the evening is a long held belief of mine, more likely a self-fulfilling prophecy. On first waking too, before life’s daily rituals begin. Coffee, nicotine, toast maybe, fruit more often. Nature is usually up before me, running on the spot.
Weather and TV can sometimes ruin or make my day. The TV remote is my totem, an electronic arm feeding me media pablum. We’re all babies and don’t mind being spoon-fed when it comes to weapons of mass distraction, chemically enhanced health, and fossil fuel supplies. And oh yeah, lest we forget, fake people like Anchorpersons, Weather diviners and Sports guy.
And slaves to ease of use, access and egress that we are, we buy in to the shiny brmm-brums and cheap travel in tin cylinders pushing 600-800 mph. And boy are we surprised when accidents happen. Well not really ‘coz we’ve got Reality TV and Internet. See it live folks!
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