Of all the dreams I’ve had in my life, the one I had back in July of 2007 as a 14 year old seems to have stuck somewhere in my memory the longest. It involved some airy-fairy death and rebirth of the world and it all got very 2001-sy real quick.
Here’s a retelling of that story...ish.
Long story short I needed a title, and prior to that my phone opted to have some sort of techno-stroke earlier in the day, and I took inspiration from this. So, yeah...
I overheard the term ‘feeding the muse’ after what felt like an age and two halves at some point this week, so I figured I’d utilise it as a source of inspiration (and corrupt it in the name of art) somehow...
Three islands filled with people all alone out by the sea,
You see, I'd love to join them but there is no room for me.
That one guy climbed too high - I think they call him "Clumsy Paul?"
Soon there may be room for me... I'm just waiting for his fall.
I had a rock tumbler as a child and really enjoyed it. When my youngest was a child we bought her one. She was eager to enjoy it too, but somewhere after starting on that path, we lost track and it everything inside turned into a solid mass. We tossed it and forgot about it. On a recent beach trip, I collected handfuls of rocks, as I am always likely to do, and, upon return, remembered how I loved my childhood rock tumbler. I immediately researched, ordered and eagerly anticipated its delivery. Of course, with Amazon Prime, that was only a couple day’s wait. As soon as I unboxed it I thought “what am I doing?” I have neither time, nor space for yet another hobby. I thought “what will I DO with a pile of polished, pretty rocks?” I would gather them in my hands and feel their silky smoothness. I would likely gather them in some beautiful glass bowl and…then what? I have toddler grand kids frequently at my home. They put small colorful things in their mouths and up their noses and feed them to the dogs regularly. And I don’t even have a single space to display a bog bowl of pretty rocks. So I quickly decided “I’m Returning the Rock Tumbler” and will, for NOW, stick to painting them when the mood strikes.
