Sunday, December 21, 2014
It's Sunday 21st December and I am on my way to the shops.
I have my shopping list, I have a pair of odd socks to wear.
Routine autopilot is on green.
Then something stopped me in my tracks.
A fleeting scroll on an ipad, I fell upon a word which caught my attention: 'Random.'
It was a post of Alan Levine entitled 'Randomly Yours.'
It was enough to impel action, it was the reason for this rush.
I am writing this before the shops close.
I only skimmed it.
I had no time for reflection.
I remember the mention of serendipity.
I love the word serendipity, a concept so embedded, a word unknown to me before quite recently.
Randomise, random eyes, only a fortunate misspelling.
It is enough to start the top spinning.
I find an image.
It is an image that I remember.
It is an image that the Zeega master Mr T. Elliott uses.
There is the element of time.
There is a some unknown wilful spinning impulsion.
There is curiosity.
It is captured in this page now, spinning but never stopping.
I go back and embolden a few lines which catch my attention.
They are the bones of the piece. They hold it up, they hold it together.
I am not sure why these lines more than others.
I will go back and read closely later.
I pause, I resume typing, typing ever rightwards, ever downwards, on this page.
Where is this leading?
I come to the edge of the page.
I scribble a few references on a card.
I open the library index drawers, I look for the title.
'The Edge of hopelessness'
However long I spend looking for the book reference, I come back to the same conclusion.
The 'Edge of hopelessness' doesn't exist here.
It came from a comment on a Facebook rhizo14 stream by Scott Johnson.
It is the title of a piece of work that needs to be written, that is begging for an author to give it a place some place in the 'Thes'.
How do I punctuate a plural the?
No matter. I am now looking at this page anew.
It is blank, crying out for a release from its mutism.
It is a dumb waiter.
I am flying down to a basement.
If only the top will keep spinning.
I will write before it is too late.
Image from Inception.
Gif by Timetravlin