Sunday, March 19, 2017

Trying to say more

And tell a story with fewer words.  It would be easier if photography was my forte but it really isnt.  It's point and shoot, really, and that's been the issue with my writing as well.  Both crafts require composition and composition requires clarity.  It's a question of finding the most direct path from the heart to the brain to the outside world.  We can't count on others to speak the same language or intuitively fill in the blanks.  It just doesn't work that way, any way you look at it.  You have to tell the story, at least to the point that if you're misconstrued that it's an error in their filter system and not yours.

Looking for a clearer path.

I left the house at 10:30 last night to walk, but it quickly became clear that exhaustion and lack of sleep aren't the way.  My exercise became just that.  Just exercise.  Moving the feet at a faster pace to increase the heart rate and count the seconds for a bead of sweat to roll down the canal in the middle of the back, beneath the coat.  It's still winter after all, with spring supposedly around the corner.  I was hoping for an early spring and it may yet come but this morning I find myself caring less.  It seems less important than yesterday.  There are other feelings in the way that haven't found their path to the surface.  I will, at some point, guide them to daylight, but for now they can swim around in the dark with the others.  

Feelings.

What do we do with feelings?

We feel them.

So what are the predominant feelings?

Off-balance, like the Earth is flat and on a tilt, even when I know intellectually that it isn't flat and it's always on some kind of a tilt.  That it's all relative.

Hunger, but it's difficult to force food past the lump in my throat.  Nil by mouth?  Perhaps just fluids.

A sadness and loneliness that seems infinite today.

We feel them.  

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