I Never Know Exactly What I’m Going to Write When I Decide to Sit down and Write.
October 27th 2009 10:44
I see the world in a funny way.
I see the world like all of the sounds and smells and colours and shapes and textures and emotions and people and kisses and yelling and soft pillow cases and headphones and purple roses and soft billowing clouds that dance on the precipice of a tomorrow sunset...
...are just paint blobs on my palate and I get excited when I notice something strange or feel something peculiar and different or when I wake up and before my mind has had time to begin its relentless chatter, I notice the sun slipping through the slight crack in my heavy Victorian curtains, the soft spring air transporting effortlessly an intoxicating hint of jasmine scent through the tiny slice in my open window...
... Before my mind comes up with a running commentary and starts to ruin it all... when these things happen I get excited because when the whole entire world goes to sleep and it is just me here left in the late evening, I get to gaze adoringly at my palate of experiential paint blobs and begin to paint.
Sometimes the original paint blob inspires another paint blob into existence and disappears itself.
My favourite part.
I see the world in a funny way, and;
I never know exactly what I’m going to write when I decide to sit down and write in the late evening, when the whole wide world is asleep except for me.
I see the world like all of the sounds and smells and colours and shapes and textures and emotions and people and kisses and yelling and soft pillow cases and headphones and purple roses and soft billowing clouds that dance on the precipice of a tomorrow sunset...
...are just paint blobs on my palate and I get excited when I notice something strange or feel something peculiar and different or when I wake up and before my mind has had time to begin its relentless chatter, I notice the sun slipping through the slight crack in my heavy Victorian curtains, the soft spring air transporting effortlessly an intoxicating hint of jasmine scent through the tiny slice in my open window...
... Before my mind comes up with a running commentary and starts to ruin it all... when these things happen I get excited because when the whole entire world goes to sleep and it is just me here left in the late evening, I get to gaze adoringly at my palate of experiential paint blobs and begin to paint.
Sometimes the original paint blob inspires another paint blob into existence and disappears itself.
My favourite part.
I see the world in a funny way, and;
I never know exactly what I’m going to write when I decide to sit down and write in the late evening, when the whole wide world is asleep except for me.
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