thought for the day

love is a bit like food poisoning. you can die of it it but more usually it just hurts like hell for a while then goes away.

there can be a lot of crap to clear up afterwards.

sweet dreams.

epiphanies 'n' 'at

ever had an epiphany then? you know, a sudden, intuitive realization through an ordinary circumstance. that moment when you turn to yourself while peeling the spuds, metaphorically speaking of course, and say 'well just fancy that' or 'who'd 've thought it?' or even 'well i'll be jiggered' as your whole life is hooked, landed and filleted before being mercilessly exposed to you in all its grim and tawdry actuality? and all in the space of a butterfly's heartbeat.
so, come on, have you?

i have.

thats how i know i'm a writer. i thought i'd get the admission over quickly. i reckon that for those of you who were a bit slow to have guessed its probably best to spell it out at an early stage. while out of respect for those who had seen it coming i hasten to confirm your suspicions.

epiphanies after all are known to be almost an identifying characteristic amongst writers. writers and fruitcakes. but for now we'll stick to the former. you know that class of person who sits out the thumb twiddling day waiting for inspiration to strike. yes we (you notice i include myself) are particularly vulnerable to a shot of satori. on the rocks. or anywhere else. if only to break up the monotony.

some may even be self induced. epiphanies that is, not writers. picture if you will the solitary scribe yearning for a flash of blinding insight to leven the ennui. if in response to all that aching need one pops fully formed from the ether, oh happy day, who can criticise the tapper who nails their dowdy colours to the mast of committment. too good to be true many may think. and you might be among them.

which only goes to prove how much of an unwriter you are. because you are looking at the issue in the wrong way. everybody knows that if you are going to be a really good deceiver, which is basically what writers are, then the first person you really need to deceive is ... the first person. ie i. i mean you. or more accurately oneself.

in this case it could be regarded as a pretty neat trick, even a basic skill, if from nowhere you can pull a really convincing epiphany. because then you may be a good long way down the road to success. after all if you can deceive yourself ... other people should be a doddle.

as it happens my own epiphany enjoys a lot more substance than a mere fit of self deception. to start with i wasn't bored. well i was a bit. but i was certainly busy. i enjoyed sedentary employment at that time. and at the critical moment was rushed off my seat.

i was composing a letter to a mrs williams of cockett to tell her that no, the council wouldn't move the play area adjacent to her house even tho it was the nocturnal venue for rabid teen booze, drug and sex orgies and was having a serious detrimental impact on the value of her property and she couldn't get planning permission for a viewing platform so she could sell tickets to her friends to come and watch. and the environmental health department had refused her a license to sell hot dogs.

i was halfway through the epistle when it struck. 'listen mate,' my epiphany suggested in its ethereal, intuitive, but strangely gravelly and cockney, manner, 'you're wasting your time on this one. what you are is a writer. you know, books like.' it looked over its shoulder. then turned back. 'know what i mean? arty 'n' 'at. nobody else may agree but what you do best is write. so get on with it.'

so with customary directness i started a photography degree.