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published: 2009-12-09

“This. Is a spoon,” declared a friend. He was holding the spoon straight up in front of his nose and then added, “and so what?” He threw the spoon on the table, discarded of it.
“The thing is,” he continued, “you do not feel what I feel when looking at that spoon. You don’t have the same memory of it. When I look at that spoon, I think of how my lover and I both ate from it. We were in the park. You may now well envision a picknick. When what I see is how we bought take-out Thai. The sun was setting though. It was summer.”
There is a point to this which rings true for every artist. I’m sure you can do the math. And what I did wrong with my previous two entries is decribe the spoon. My job should be to rewrite until you picture why the man’s death makes me feel so sad. For now, I’ll leave it at a spoon.

3 Responses to “Spoon”

  1. yo says:

    Don’t be so hard on yourself. The stories of the previous entries ring true.Not matter what version of reality. Didn’t you somewhere say that writing is rewriting? If not – I am saying it now! And believe me, that that is true – in a former live I was a grant writer. The number of versions reality can take- whew!

  2. Jordans 4 says:

    A burning desire is the starting point of all accomplishment. Just like a small fire cannot give much heat, a weak desire cannot produce great results.

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