Some Words

Tonight I started a new project. This is usually a dangerous thing for me. I start new projects too often and as a result not enough of them get done. My computer desktop has dozens of little digital sticky notes all over it, reminding me to do this or that.

This project was to write my friends using paper and pen. It seemed terribly old fashioned, but there is an appeal to that. I’m also horribly bad at writing them emails. Letters will hopefully feel special for both parties. It might even get me out of writing as often as I should, but I dont want to think of it that way.

The first thing I learned while trying to write, is that I no longer have good cursive skills. About six years ago I switched to printing all the letters. This, combined, I think, with my mild dyslexia, is conspiring against me. It is not that my penmanship is simply bad. I will actively think of a letter and write another one. I tried to write a capitol H three times tonight. When I failed to concentrate on my intentions fully, it did not look like an ‘h’ at all. Eventually I retired to printed letters in defeat. I even had to use lined paper. It was a sad moment. I felt like I was in grade school again. However, this has only strengthened my resolve.

I was also thinking, just before I started writing this post, that I was not doing what I wanted to do with this web space. There is a second page, marked stories, which contains some small part of my writing output. I do intend to continue to place things there. The posts on this page, on the other hand, are likely to undergo a substantial change in content. I have been trying to write down my thoughts on current events. This was a fool’s game. I keep up with what is going on, but trying to write about it as well was only drawing me away from the fiction. I had been afraid to write posts that seemed like a diary, or contained on any frequent basis things that would make it sound like a diary. I told myself this was done to prevent myself from looking like the thousands of other blogs out there. The thing is, that is exactly what those other blogs are doing. This web space isn’t going to draw anyone who isn’t either looking for stories, or a personal friend of some sort. A writer of political commentary I am not. I might touch on things like that, but not in any way I intend to be insightful. If you’re here for that, well let’s just hope you weren’t, because I wasn’t helping you. There will likely be less linking in the future as well, though in some ways writing personal observation frees me of having to think of a reason for a link to be relevant. Hopefully this actually leads to better, more enjoyable, posts on the site.

With that in mind…

On my commute several days ago, I was listening to the latest album by Hem. I was driving down 94 and for once I wasn’t in a traffic jam. The sky was overcast and there was just a touch of haze in the sky. I was wondering if listening to Hem stuck me in a demographic with reasonably thoughtful milquetoast middle managers (likely it does). As I hit a rise in the highway, a rush of unrelated memories came over me. All of them related to Canada. I was walking in the Beaches neighborhood of Toronto, listening to jazz. I was doing down a street in Oshawa toward my grandparents house. One of the rides on the Toronto islands came to mind. Then I remembered my grandmother’s funeral and several other wonderful memories which I had forgotten about, all in the space of six or seven seconds. This sort of thing is not unusual for me, but I had not previously associated Hem with any of these things. I have been leery of listening to the album since. It is, never the less, a good album.