Travels

I'm a little scared that my thoughts aren't manifesting in artistic imaginings and musings of theatre / dance / art. I think if i truly recount the last 6 months, since waterproof, i would be forced to recognise that my mind has changed. Or at least it has placed it's point of focus in another area which doesn't include artistry or daydreams. Or maybe it's my heart that is somewhere else.

On some foreign island.

Bananas

you said something so interesting last night;

That you feel as though you are waiting for your life to begin.

I asked you what that means, and you said for 'work to start'.

I asked, if your life hadn't already begun, what you had been doing thus far - and you said; 'waiting'.

I find these such honest and brave responses though i don't really know what they mean.

Maybe get back to me? They interest me.

One always knows that life is terminal, it is a cognitive default. But the day i actually understood and realised i was going to die, was the moment my life began, and my 'work' commenced.

Intellectually, i think all we are ever doing is waiting. Living is waiting. You are born, you live (wait), then you die. But obviously that 'waiting' part is where the magic occurs.
Like eating 4 bananas at once...