Inspiration pt. 2 - Reality
Part One: Abandoned Spaces
I don't like to say that I believe in magic so much as I don't want to rule it out - I like to think our world has little sparks of something inexplicable here and there. Maybe it's witches, maybe it’s monsters or miracles, or something incomprehensible to our imaginations. Even if I’m just an idealist/nutcase, I like to imagine worlds of my own in which magic exists inside realism. Sometimes it can be the life-giver, like a heart, sometimes a parasite eating away at reality itself, and more often than not it’s like an appendix - just sort of, there. Important in its own way, but mundane. I also like to take real life and fantasize about it, what it might be. I love to people watch and write stories filling in the gaps in my information. I might see a skinny young straight couple embracing all the way down an escalator in a shopping mall, all elbows, wrists and awkwardly bumping faces. I tell myself they’re runaways, grabbing supplies to fill their backpacks using the last of the money they could steal from around their houses. They would be pulling up their hoods and hopping train barriers later tonight, getting on the first train to take them anywhere else. Anywhere they can be together, watch a sunset, hold hands, and never ache in that sweet, sad way you do when you're a teenager and you can't see your love for even a day.
It's never just a pair of lanky kids kissing awkwardly because reality isn't that. It's more than just fixed moments and snap assessments. There are so many stories waiting in the wind for you to pluck out like a speck of dust and roll between your fingers until it either flies away or seeps into your skin. I'm relaunching my fiction blog The Ink Blot, as of today. My first story is going to be inspired by reality, one of those images that caught my eye whilst on the bus to work and it seeped into my skin: a boy walking to school, carrying a guitar without a case or a strap.
The story is called "I know your wings", the last words of the song "Gypsy Rose Lee" by The Distillers. Keep an eye on the Ink Blot if you're at all interested in my creative writing, maybe if you want to submit some of your own?? Could that be a thing? Who knows! A new blog, a new start.
I don't like to say that I believe in magic so much as I don't want to rule it out - I like to think our world has little sparks of something inexplicable here and there. Maybe it's witches, maybe it’s monsters or miracles, or something incomprehensible to our imaginations. Even if I’m just an idealist/nutcase, I like to imagine worlds of my own in which magic exists inside realism. Sometimes it can be the life-giver, like a heart, sometimes a parasite eating away at reality itself, and more often than not it’s like an appendix - just sort of, there. Important in its own way, but mundane. I also like to take real life and fantasize about it, what it might be. I love to people watch and write stories filling in the gaps in my information. I might see a skinny young straight couple embracing all the way down an escalator in a shopping mall, all elbows, wrists and awkwardly bumping faces. I tell myself they’re runaways, grabbing supplies to fill their backpacks using the last of the money they could steal from around their houses. They would be pulling up their hoods and hopping train barriers later tonight, getting on the first train to take them anywhere else. Anywhere they can be together, watch a sunset, hold hands, and never ache in that sweet, sad way you do when you're a teenager and you can't see your love for even a day.
It's never just a pair of lanky kids kissing awkwardly because reality isn't that. It's more than just fixed moments and snap assessments. There are so many stories waiting in the wind for you to pluck out like a speck of dust and roll between your fingers until it either flies away or seeps into your skin. I'm relaunching my fiction blog The Ink Blot, as of today. My first story is going to be inspired by reality, one of those images that caught my eye whilst on the bus to work and it seeped into my skin: a boy walking to school, carrying a guitar without a case or a strap.
The story is called "I know your wings", the last words of the song "Gypsy Rose Lee" by The Distillers. Keep an eye on the Ink Blot if you're at all interested in my creative writing, maybe if you want to submit some of your own?? Could that be a thing? Who knows! A new blog, a new start.
