Tuesday, August 3, 2010


What they didn’t tell you in elementary school that the Imagination is actually necessary for life. Imagination keeps the world at bay and brightens the sun and suspends mundane reality. Today, for example, I have already been here:

…Anita said I could live in the yellow one (thanks, Anita!).
The view from that top set of windows is quite lovely indeed.

I’ve also eaten my body weight in chocolate (or imagined that I did, at least).

However – “and sadly,” said my overdramatic half – there are days where Imagination and chocolate just won’t do (no offense, my sweet, sweet Lindt); days where the Minutes drag their heels through setting concrete, refusing to go any. faster. My word! The minute just changed…perhaps the clock is reading my blog? Just in case…excuse me for a second whilst I yell out some desperate instructions: HURRY THE FRICK UP.


I am forced to retreat to the concentric circles of thought that take me through mid-mid day crisis and pseudo-dissatisfaction with a life that the Bird’s eyes might otherwise consider…well…quite wonderfully unruffled, actually. Perhaps I am being too harsh. Or maybe all this sitting around trying to look useful has done more harm than good, over the years. Like I don’t know how to use my brain anymore? Something like that.

I’ve considered winning the lottery. Not so I can buy things (because things are useless and silly) but so I can buy time: time to use my brain in ways that actually… use my brain. Time in which I could utilize my creativity instead of squelshing it into the dusty corner labelled “not NOW because there is looking busy to be done”. I think I just need some time off; I am turning into one of those crazy women that are all Type-A-or-I-Bust and WOULDSOMEONEPLEASESTRAIGHTENTHEPICTUREFRAMES!? Example: While I’ve spent part of my day in that Oceanside paradise up there, I’ve spent all the rest of it in my house (the one I currently live in, which also happens to sit Oceanside). What have I been doing in my house, you ask? Organizing boxes and folding clothes and vacuuming the carpet obsessively. I’ve been counting forks. I've been polishing the window specs and waxing the hardwood and building a shelf and when I am finished all those things I want to reupholster my arm chair. Then I want to use my entire paycheck on food and teach myself to cook delicious things that even Gordon Ramsey would have trouble spitting back out. And then I would like to read on the beach. And then I would like to write write write write write. And then I want to search the world for new music, new art, new design. And then implement those things in my own personal world. Essentially, I want to be anywhere that might inspire my brain to actually operate as it should be operating, instead of humdrummingly pretending to look busy.

Is humdrummingly a word? Use it in a sentence this week, and get back to me.

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