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 |   Thoughts destined to be washed away by the tides of life. |
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I've been studying my cover photo for a while now, and it seems to me that it is more than just a photo of what is there that can be seen, more than just three white rocks stacked on a beach. It contains an important question about the future, about what happens long after the photographer has gone. What will happen to our pile of stones when the tide comes in? Will it topple or has the architect built this structure at a safe distance? I don't know what will happen to these words that I stack here on the sand. They may prove safely distant, or they may be swallowed up by a rush of self-doubt. They may be here for a season. They may lose their balance and be scattered by the shoreline, or be hidden away under shifting sands. Perhaps someday, the tides of life will reclaim them. Or maybe that's just a bunch of poetic, romantic nonsense. After all, this is just a blog. |
| I remember that when I was young, one of the most derisive epithets that my older brother and his friends tossed at each other quite liberally was "fathead". This probably stems from having watched so many hours of The Three Stooges, followed every Saturday morning by the spectacle of professional wrestling (a sport in which many participants appeared to be fatheads). This might have been a good thing. You see, I read some interesting brain facts this morning, the most surprising of which is that the brain is 60% fat. Yowsa! Suddenly, I felt better about the butter on my breakfast. And about watching The Three Stooges. I remember remarking to a Stooge aficionado once that the Stooges were entertaining in their genre of comedy if one appreciated them for what they were and may have said something along the lines of "well, it's not Noel Coward" and the hurt reaction I received has prevented me from ever again entering into any deep critique of their body of work. So, my goal for today is to be a great, big, fathead. I hope you all can be fatheads, too. |
| I am thinking about blogging again. It's one way to keep writing even when I have nothing to write. But thinking about it is as far as I have progressed this morning. I was asked what my plans were for the day, and as usual, my plans are both visionary and practical. That means I will dream big and accomplish little. Visions are always hampered by the existence of practicalities. If I can think of anything to blog about, I will be back. The day's prospects are bit bleak and sodden under a leaky grey sky, so I wouldn't form any expectations. |
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Not quite what I meant. "Pufts" was a sidelong reference to the famous dog show, Crufts