don’t know, nor care to know, why
There’s a beauty about ’em, like snow leopards … lions … hummingbirds. So, this morning, reading through a book instead of in order, searching for a quote to add to the December page, I flip back to read the dedication. Letters from Father Christmas, which was published posthumously, is comprised of letters and drawings that JRR Tolkien sent to his children. Flipping through the book yet again, I saw a picture of four penguins dancing with a polar bear (p. 197).
On Thursday, I drove a bit to some shops, and the creative spirit, muse, pinged and nudged so much I voice-texted and recorded memos almost all the way. So much that my heart was full to bursting and, while recording a memo, said: I must go out for drives. Thinking of it once I got home, I realized I wrote the two completed novels while on the move — while I commuted to work, frequented the beach, etc. I have become a bit home-bound, even before the imposed isolation I had isolated. And although moving and journeying doesn’t have to be physical, for me, it seems to invite or uncover (?) hidden thoughts and wilderness that want to run. Like (yet unlike because they are much brighter than) shower thoughts. 🙃 Digressed a wee.
I feel a continuum here…do you?
Miriam forgets again and stands on the right side of the car. They laugh.
“Where to now? Any thoughts?”
“The zoo,” she would like to ride a double-decker bus, doubts they will, “but not until later, the penguins don’t walk till two fifteen.”
“We’ll go to the harbour.” He glances at her. “Penguins. You want to see penguins?”
“Yes, they go out and walk in the park at two fifteen. I read it in a guide book.”
Sinjin throws his arm out of the car and yells. “I’m in Scot-land with a Puerto Rican who likes penguins!”MINE TO GIVE
myüz | a source of inspiration
I have yet to listen to and transcribe the memos and texts. Will do it now. Good thing I thought of this.