on sanity

‘Madness was someone with attention deficit disorder surfing the internet. Sanity was the ability to stick to your search.’ Glen Duncan

But I think that if madness is a blanket, then sanity is the holes. And some blankets are too well made, and worn in midsummer, sun beating down, airless and dark beneath. Fingers scrabbling for a loop to pull, a ripcord to tug on to draw some air inside. So I say get struggling, keep believing that you will dance your way through to next winter, wearing nothing but ragged lace.

sweet the sting

Inspiration is like a mouthful of Spacedust. Sometimes sweet, sometimes gritty, but always followed by the pop pop pop of ideas, as words jump from your tongue and hit the roof of your mouth. Sometimes it’s a bit unexpected, a bit too much, almost frightening. But sometimes it feels so good its like the top of your head could come off.

As I sit spinning my own fragile strands of this great web we stand upon, I spot other treasures as I go. I pick them up and put them on my back and hope to weave them into my own designs somewhere down the road. Two recent mouthful of Spacedust came from Found - which reminds me to keep my eyes open at all times, in all places, because you never know what might be waiting for you. And from Mothballer - which elicits a sigh as I glance over silent images begging for their stories to be told.

And lastly, just to make sure I don’t get lost in virtual pages at the expense of the paper variety - a few choice pickings from recent reading -

‘Maybe the definition of home is the place where you are never forgiven, so you may always belong there, bound by guilt. And maybe the cost of belonging is worth it.’ Gregory Maguire

‘The truth cannot be told, that is why it is the truth.’ Andre Brink

‘You always pay too much. Particularly for promises.’ Cormac McCarthy