Hunting The Muse

I went to Powell's bookstore

I went to Powell's bookstore today and it made me really uncomfortable. I feel like I don't like books right now, or at least I don't like the sheer volume of books that are in existence - they feel distracting to me. I actually started to feel physically bothered by being in the bookstore. I started to think about when people go to bookstores - sometimes it is because they are trying to find the answers to a question or researching something, and other times it is because they are simply searching for something to interest them. Then I started thinking of what would be a comforting place to be in, in contrast to a bookstore - and I thought of a purely white room, a white box - clean, unstained, white. Perhaps I'd want to just stand there for a while and breathe - perhaps I'd want the walls to be made of whiteboard, and I would have markers, and I could dump out my brain onto the clean white walls by scrawling my thoughts all over them, after which I could leave the room and shut the door.

I just think for whatever my "next step" is, in health, in realization, in evolution, the clues are already in me, and I just haven't linked them together yet; they just haven't settled in quite right yet. And I resent any forces that could distract that from happening or pollute up the mix in my brain any more. Posted by Curt at October 28, 2001 01:22 AM