Sitting down with my first cup of coffee.
I’ve been noticing that I’m beginning to ramble and go on tangents in the morning, recently. This is a good thing, as I need to get back to writing novels. So my readers will please forgive anything that might spill out after this paragraph…it’s even more likely to happen because this is the first writing I am doing upon waking…
SO. Recently someone I’ve been talking to online mentioned she was a sculptor, and also asked me where I hang out. I don’t really have a hang-out, per se. If I did, it would be something like Wash Perk or another quiet, soothing place….I’m casually acquainted with the owner of Bardo coffeehouse (on Broadway). That’s a cool place but haven’t been back since… maybe it’s been 8 months or a year. Mmm..If I have a place I could call a hang out, it would probably be Hanson’s Grill and Tavern. I have been there repeatedly, mostly with friends. It has a restaurant, a patio, and an upstairs billiards room.
I would, in fact, like to have a HANG OUT, PER SE. (that would be a cute name for a coffeehouse, huh? Per Se. …mmm. Since I won’t likely be starting one, I could use it as a title for one of my books….though I wonder how many people would pronounce it “Percy”?)
[see? there I go...]
[stepping back on the path I just wondered from]
Well. Okay, that was a bit overstated and dramatic. Maybe the red hot burning passion of ONE sun. One sun is pretty hot, all by itself. Almost 10,000 degrees Fahrenheit. And that’s just the surface. The corona around it is into the millions of degrees….
[see how this happens? Mornings are like this for me. My brain is always making connections and following little idea-mice around.
Anyway--[yanking myself back again, onto that elusive PATH...]
Sculpting. I love it. And pottery (sounds like the study of Harry Potter–pottery). I prefer the clay medium. I’m very tactile, and enjoy the sensation of it in my hands. I am drawn to things that are soft…which is probably why I like women so much… and also why I like having hand -thrown, hand -built pottery around, along with things made of wood–it grounds me amid all the softness…Am I making any sense?
But I also like that idea of taking a clump of earth and forming it into something brand new, something that is completely unique that can never be exactly replicated, not even by me. I sometimes feel I’m made out of clay…I was formed by a million moments and decisions, and had any one of those been slightly different, I could be completely different. The Butterfly Effect. In chaos theory, where one small change in a nonlinear system can result in great changes later. And I am a nonlinear system. I’ve never taken the straight path–and yes, there is a gay joke in there somewhere.
Anyway, I’m saying I know that there is no one exactly like me. I just wish that more often translated into value for other people, rather than something to keep squishing.
Wow. I need to drink my coffee a little faster…