Initiation has always been a personal struggle- Which graphite does one select for the incipient strokes destined to become a sketch? How does one begin an essay, much less a sentence? Where aught I place the first stick of furniture in a vacant room?
Disregarding the freedom garnered by a corner of the internet all to myself, I feel as though there must be some sort of politesse for posting.
Reversion to self-explanation: I suppose I'm embarking into the vast territory of THE BLOG with the intent of expelling the augmentation of imagery and thought stored within my noggin.
Typically I envision my mind as a massive chamber, filled with rows upon rows of bookshelves and filling cabinets. Workers flying between aisles, up ladders; seated behind desks, sprawled upon carpet. Typewriters, post-it notes, journals, stamps and labels amassed and stowed. Semi-organized chaos ensues as these workers frantically observe and record information, scribbling, typing, filling. Mistakes are frequently made, formless documents brimming with half-baked wonderment, fulfilled torment, and all within the median. While many record, others attempt to retrieve data stored deep within the chasm of this psychotic mess of an office.
Attempting to allow the minions of my consciousness a small reprieve, the outsourcing of data will appear in this blog. The conjecture being two-fold: cerebral productivity and organization will improve drastically, or there will merely be a proliferation of the madness...
...We...shall...see......…
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