Grasping at Leaden Straws
Trying to capture the past is like juggling water balls
I’ve been pulling my hair out (not literally of course, it would be a short lived demonstration at this point in my life) trying to do a write up on my early career in heavy industry and have had to hold off after numerous false starts. It takes so much time and detail to try to capture that alien environment that I’m already numerous pages into it and have barely scratched the surface. Trying to describe a workplace environment with such a bizarre and contradictory environment of 19th century metallurgy and 21st century technology takes pages of description just to explain basic aspects of the job. Who would have thought that train tanker cars of acid of various strengths and formulations would play such a prominent role? And how frightening is that fact alone? ;-)
So, I’ve written quite a bit but I suspect if I try to put it all out in one mammoth tome of a post the general effect would be similar amongst my readers as to when the witch put the sleeping curse on Sleeping Beauty and the entire kingdom fell asleep with her. Yeah… gripping reading. Struggling a bit.
So, until I decide on some kind of plan of attack on writing something long winded, I’ll just put out whatever I find….
This is something from a tiny notebook I had in my bag.
Beach Day
Sit cross-legged in the sand
Trying to capture what new
eyes see
with pencil
on paper
Not today. Clumsy scribbles.
In a rare time when the sky is clear
And the sun beats down rather
than pouring rain
My desire to try to
Capture what is before me
Falters.
I am tempted to stick my hands
Into the water
And lick the salt from my fingers.
Bearded men with dark skin
Play pirate with sticks in hand
Splashing each other and
Laughing
Rowers skim by across the bay
In the deeper waters behind them.
Floating hulks
Dark silhouettes on the horizon
Wait patiently
To load their cargo
And sail to other shores.
My legs cramp
Crying to my brain to move on.
I have sat too long.