The first in a series of writings under the banner ‘Of a morning’... I may include images I’ve created...Read Now
Patience rewarded me eventually with an understanding of how resistant I am to being held to a standard of solemnity carried with cleverly measured words. Even if poetic, they register with me as an affront of ideas substituting for grief - ideas I can’t respond to despite how much someone wants me to feel the way they do. An illusion of camaraderie worded in place with a self-satisfying, punishing rhetoric could be so much more effective if abandoned completely and re-written as song. Without rhythm and music, some ideas are simply bossy, churlish instructions on how to behave.