When I sit at my desk to write, pay bills, sign permission slips, find recipes, or try to get the cat off of my lap, I often look to my left to get lost in the view as I’m thinking.
Thinking is hard.
To my left is a window. I leave the curtains open so I can get distracted by what I see. In the daytime, my view looks south over the rooftops of my neighbors’ houses, through some suburban trees, to the mountain I have promised to climb. The sky is often crystal clear blue. There might be a cloud or two. There might be a crow perched on a limb or a roof. There might be a giant electric transformer floating by, attached to a giant crane. (That actually happened.)
Right now the sun just finished setting. I am literally watching the light disappear from the sky. This view is like a work of art, all silhouettes: the ridge of the Santa Monica Mountains in deep black against the darkening midnight blue. I look harder…a star appears. In the foreground, three black shadows of cypress pine treetops wave back and forth. It has been a very windy day. So windy that I almost skipped getting my car washed, because it is new (did I tell you we got a new car? The first new car in 14 years.) and I didn’t want dust and grit to stick to it after a wash.
In the closer foreground: me.
Who are you? I ask myself that question often. It comes out of the blue, from my subconscious, from myself. Today, I decide I need no definition.
I look back out the window. I can’t see anything but myself, sitting here at my desk, writing.
That’s a good enough answer.
It’s beautiful writing here. I can see the scenery because you describe it so vividly. Outside our living room window are the branches of a magnificent lime blossom tree since our house is split-level and the living room is on the second floor. Thinking is hard, man. With writing, sometimes I have to power through without thinking and let the thinking come later. That probably makes no sense.
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It sure makes sense now, as I contemplate what I am going to say next. Maybe best to stop thinking.
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This writing is really lovely. You describe the countryside so vividly that I can actually see it. Since our house is split-level and the living room is on the second floor, there is a gorgeous lime blossom tree right outside our living room window. Man, thinking is hard. Sometimes when I write, I have to push through without stopping to think things over afterward.
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