Work on the site has been steady, though yesterday I did take a hiatus from the toils of constructing my new web experience. I needed time to collect and gather my thoughts. Instead, I watched a few episodes of Money Heist before sleep overwhelmed me.
It’s like having a swath of dark energy rippling through your mind, tugging at the very recesses of your subconscious, yet the thoughts are not fluid, nor are they ever very coherent. At times it feels no more creative than slapping a paint-laden brush onto a canvas and calling it art. Isn’t it interesting how we can define talent through such random acts of artistic savagery? Or, in my case, literary butchery. To be honest, I didn’t know if butchery was an acceptable choice, but I rather enjoyed the cadence as I repeated it in my head.
I do very much enjoy words. My mind is in a constant chaotic churn (my daughter would be proud of that alliteration) as the images flit and dance about. Such random seeds spawn moments that I tag with some memorable quip as they slip by, to recall again at a more appropriate time, when memory serves. Some I latch onto, like Tony Stark with his orchestral performance, arms cutting through the beams of his holo-display. Making the images dance with a quick flick of his wrist. A swipe of his hand. Turning and expanding. Contracting and tossing. Manipulating with uncanny deftness. Allowing the rest of us a small glimpse at the order and function of his mind. An outward expression of his thought process as he worked through his latest challenge in an intellectual haze until reaching that apex. That singular moment where he would gaze, rather astonished, at the illuminated projection before him. The culmination of all his machinations honed and compressed into a razor-thin point. It was as if he knew the answer all along, and was waiting for the spark of clarity to arrive. A path to that specific moment when he had traversed the dwindling possibilities with each iteration and through the process of elimination, arrived at what could only be, the solution.
Even better; the swath of glowing emerald mist as Dr. Strange passed his hands over the time stone pendant, calling forth its power as he delved into infinite threads of possibility, reviewing all outcomes to divine the optimal path.
It seems I am in a Marvel mood, and full of allusion. Or perhaps just full of shit. A vulgar passing thought. With it I am jarred back to existence, having traveled this thread to its bitter end, not even touching on the continued construction of my space.
I will end, at the very least, with a final passing thought; though I am never happy with a particular palette, I am pleased with the current state of this colorful orchestration.
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It’s been a while since I visited the site, and was amazed to see anyone had even bothered reading, much less commenting. I’ve been meaning to get back to it; I’ve been in a creative mood. I was so stunned to see someone notice, so thank you. Believe it or not I am in IT by trade, but I have always had a love for writing. What prompted me to start was the realization that I have so little of my writing over the years preserved anywhere. I had also hoped to eventually do some freelance writing one day, but I had nothing to share if someone asked for a sample. Once I started writing, it seemed odd to just drop random thoughts on the page, and I let it go. This has encouraged me to get back to it. So again, thank you.