An idea, left unpenned, becomes a free agent, and it tends to languidly, smoothly evaporate. I am at my most unfortunate, unrelenting worst when a potentially brilliant phrase, word, or story line come to mind when I am least likely to jot it down.
Try as I might to always make a quick note, or to attach an inspired thought to a mental image for later recall, now and then I am at a loss for doing so, either because I lack a pen or am drawn away by something immediate.
On occasional mornings, I'll wake up wondering "What was it I was thinking of just before I dropped off to sleep last night?" Or might try wonder, "What were we talking about that made me think of ... something?"
Where, oh where, do such feathers of thought fly off to? Is there a repository of unclaimed ideas floating in the ether that one can sort through, like a kind of celestial lost and found? Surely there is some scrap of them there.
At this very moment, I am searching through the vapors of my brain for such a thing. The hunt is on, and my mind is groping for any and all glimpses at whatever it was that was brewing in my erstwhile frame of mind.
Perhaps it will return to me on its own when I am no longer searching for it. Perhaps it was never really of any use. Still and all, I cannot simply let it go while any notion of it yet lingers ... like a whisper ... fading ...
Oh, wait! ... Now I remember!
Try as I might to always make a quick note, or to attach an inspired thought to a mental image for later recall, now and then I am at a loss for doing so, either because I lack a pen or am drawn away by something immediate.
On occasional mornings, I'll wake up wondering "What was it I was thinking of just before I dropped off to sleep last night?" Or might try wonder, "What were we talking about that made me think of ... something?"
Where, oh where, do such feathers of thought fly off to? Is there a repository of unclaimed ideas floating in the ether that one can sort through, like a kind of celestial lost and found? Surely there is some scrap of them there.
At this very moment, I am searching through the vapors of my brain for such a thing. The hunt is on, and my mind is groping for any and all glimpses at whatever it was that was brewing in my erstwhile frame of mind.
Perhaps it will return to me on its own when I am no longer searching for it. Perhaps it was never really of any use. Still and all, I cannot simply let it go while any notion of it yet lingers ... like a whisper ... fading ...
Oh, wait! ... Now I remember!
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