Note to self: Always take a book to specialist appointments.
I was at the eye specialist the other day (turns out I have to have a fluorescein angiography in January) when, apart from making the above note to myself – which is self-explanatory – A bloke who was several bodies ahead of me came out of the doctor’s little cubicle and was on his way out the door when the doctor charged after him with a pair of glasses in his hand.
I knew why he forgot them when it came my turn…. sheesh, those examinations are rough on a girl’s peepers … but it got me to thinking.
I’ve noticed that since I started writing this blog, and I must apologise for the long wait between posts, that I’ve become more observant of my surroundings in a way that is unique to writers, I think, or artists of any sort who actively practice their craft.
I call it purposeful observation. It’s the point where ideas, scenarios, and sometimes the plot for a whole book manifest in this reality from wherever they originated; be that our spirit realm, or our unconscious, or whatever we choose to call that place that exists just beyond the reach of our physical and metaphorical fingertips.
And to be purposefully observant we need two things: First the eyes to see. Not only obvious things like a keyboard and monitor, (Although I’ve heard of things called typewriters I firmly believe them to be unsubstantiated rumours) but less obvious things like the ability to discern what we are seeing and make decisions based on the frame of reference we’ve built up throughout our lives for what we are seeing.
So we need eyes and a clear focus – which brings me to the title of this post. I was at the Writers Chatroom chat on Wednesday a while ago and for some reason the software was running a little slow. Sometimes the guest speaker (writer) is a little slow at typing or the program runs slow, or whales lean on the communications satellites (Didn’t you know that whales comport in the ionosphere when we aren’t looking? Well, they do, and occasionally the get a little wild and start playing soccer with all the debris they encounter up there, but that’s another story)
Rather than stare at an unmoving chat I decided to do a little computer-ly housekeeping. I had a huge list of blogs on my favourites list, most of which I hadn’t even looked at since I ‘favourited’ them, and tidying them up was something I had on my to-do-when-I-wanted-to-avoid-something-else list. As I reviewed them I astonished myself at how eclectic my tastes are. (And what a miss-use of my time most of them are)
With gay abandon I began deleting those unread ones, when it occurred to me to check back on the chat to see if anything had moved. Just as I was about to click on the next deletion, my eyes shifted to the chatroom’s open page … (It’s called multitasking and I suck at it) … and poof.. I deleted my entire blog list … just like that… and just so you know, there’s no way to ‘undo’ or ‘escape’ or anything to reverse that particular mouse-click. (A serious omission on the part of the software designers, who will receive a strongly worded email, one day)
P.S. If I’ve appeared on your blog at some time in the past and you haven’t seen or heard a squeak from me recently, please contact me via the ‘contact me’ thing over there to the right, and I’ll put you back on my new and improved blog-list.
Style is knowing who you are, what you want to say, and not giving a damn. – Gore Vidal