I’m not sure when it was that I discovered I could control the light output of a desk lamp by facing it towards a wall then moving it closer to or farther away from it. I also discovered, at one point or another, that I found diffuse lighting very calming and easy to read in. So I almost never prefer to face desk lamps towards me or my work.
I bring this up because I started a post, this morning, like this: “Behind my computer monitor, my desk lamp shines into the wall.” I never continued working on that post. Shortly after I started on it, I heard a knock on my bedroom door. It was 3 or 4am so when my older sister came into my room, the first thing I said was, “How did you know I was awake?”. Actually, it may have been, “What if I was asleep?” but I can’t remember.
Anyway, she sits down on my old computer-desk-chair which I have standing next to a pile of random junk in the corner of my room. She talks about school and stuff. There are laughs to be had at her expense. I was slowly losing my voice this morning so my laugh was raspy though my through wasn’t all that ticklish.
Felt as if my throat was a piece of wood being… polished? No, wouldn’t be ‘sanded,’ (I write as I look at pictures of woodworking tools on HomeHardware.com). I guess the word I’m looking for is ‘filed’. If my throat was a piece of wood, my voice and my laughter was a hand-file. It wouldn’t be a medium-file. It would be a little finer than that, starting to approach sandpaper-susceptible smoothness but still a bit of bite and rasp.
Anyway, thanks if you’ve read this far. I really do mean to accomplish something through this post. I want to get my daily done. I want to be consistent and write often in order to polish my craft. Or at least to keep my voice fresh.
Optimally, I’d also have something more interesting to write about, so that I wouldn’t have to colour my text with unnecessary digressions about my process. But no matter: I’m working on that side of things too.
The dream is to feed myself with my words and with the sights I set out to see, the things I wish to experience. But I believe there’s work to be done in that too. I mean, if I only ever wrote about what came easy, like visiting the diner across the street (hypothetically, ‘cuz I actually live relatively far from the closest food establishment), then no one would be interested because getting to the hypothetical diner across the street is something anybody can do. And no one wants to read about something that they can easily go and experience themself. Well, maybe they would to see their own world from a different perspective, or to learn about it, but even that would require that I reach for something different that is relatively hard to attain or obtain.
The life of an adult, I guess. The life of someone who not only consumes, but creates. Should be fun, just not what I’m used to. Seems like it would be a lot more fun than just sitting back and doing what’s easy, though.