haven’t done this in so long, and this I haven’t done in so long I love so much doing, but the practice is rusty; comes clumsier than I seem to recall, seemed to come smoother, less effort, like it was that Zone they talk about and I’d gotten to where I lived almost next door to it, so easy to enter it and fly around; a basically crappy mental environment we landed in about a year ago might be partly responsible, and if there are theories that say a conducive environment is a huge plus, I’d be someone who’d concur. Well I’m gonna keep swinging.
Because I miss doing this – starting from a grain and spinning out something, massaging and rubbing, and little stories begin developing, and then more, and they begin to multiply, put them into stanzas just because it’s fun to look for sounds and I got hooked on end-line options a long time ago.
Sketches. Making sketches. Sketch because a sketch leaves room for other stages, like thinking about details. Oh it’s my favorite. Be back in a bit with a sketchy thing that came from one of the mind map meanderings.
Oh and I do not express often enough there is a perpetual fountain of Thanks For Reading! that bubbles and spouts and erupts happily and gratefully because it must never be forgotten that The Reader is always king or queen.