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 A tentative blog to test the temperature. |
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Ten years ago I was writing several blogs on various subjects - F1 motor racing, Music, Classic Cars, Great Romances and, most crushingly, a personal journal that included my thoughts on America, memories of England and Africa, opinion, humour, writing and anything else that occurred. It all became too much (I was attempting to update the journal every day) and I collapsed, exhausted and thoroughly disillusioned in the end. So this blog is indeed a Toe in the Water, a place to document my thoughts in and on WdC but with a determination not to get sucked into the blog whirlpool ever again. Here's hoping.     |
| Trinkets I have to admit that I cannot resist collecting trinkets. Donât ask me why I do so - I really donât know why. As far as I can see, they have no use apart from being something we can collect. And there is something in me that enforces the collection of worthless objects. Years ago, when I still served the god Nicotine, I smoked a brand that brought out a series of collectorâs cards. These had the theme of important monuments in America and I kinda liked âem. Thatâs all. They werenât astoundingly beautiful or noteworthy in any way - they just presented themselves as a target, to collect the full set. So I did exactly that. It wasnât a huge set and the cigarette company soon stopped producing them. I found myself with several sets of the cards, neatly stacked in order and sitting on my computer desk, waiting for me to think of a use for them. I never managed that supreme effort of the imagination. In the end, they disappeared into a drawer and, in the course of some move or other, they vanished forever. Over the years the same pattern has often repeated itself. For a while I was fascinated by advertisersâ photographs of credit cards they were pushing. Something about those clever photos, gleaming in their metallic colours and taken from ever more inventive angles, attracted me and I started copying them to the hard drive. For all I know, they still abide somewhere on some computer long put out to grass in a dark and dusty cupboard (ooh, delightful mixed metaphor!). When I was very young, before the age of eleven in fact, I collected china figurines of horses. Again, I donât know what started me on that. But they were all lost, broken in the great move from Cape Town to Zimbabwe and unmourned for even a moment. Collections have great allure while Iâm amassing them, but lose their magic very quickly. And now I collect trinkets. Itâs almost a forbidden pleasure, sneaking in and grabbing another one, as though it were somehow forbidden. Perhaps thatâs part of the attraction. Word count: 354 |
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