Caught somewhere between the full moon and a half I struggle to find something creative to write – blog. Writers block? Blog burnout? Or frustration over controversy from Olympic gold medals, swift boats or clinical trials of pharmaceuticals? Or maybe it's simply time to take in a Friday night sans stimuli.
First, I slide over to the stereo. Hard to turn off J.J. Cale in a middle of “Old Man” but I resist the distraction. Next i turn off the celling fan. The whirring motor that sends a gentle breeze while moving the stale air around the room starts slowing its revolution. I stare at it. Another distraction. Thinking to myself, is it really slowing down. The blades blur and my mind bends. Focus.
Next I look at the glass of pinot noir I've been sipping. My lips moisten. I yearn to sip. Focus. I stick the cork back in the bottle. Grabbing the glass I move slowly toward the sink. The stainless steel reflects a rosette pattern of the low voltage halogen lights dimming and flickering in the kitchen. Purposely slow I tilt the glass as the ruby juice coats the glass and oozes toward the rim until the first drip escapes the confine. Then another. Soon a red waterfall cascades onto the steel creating a dapple effect with the light. Some wine beads creating microcosmic bubbles fiercely trying to stay independent of the masses as the juice follows nature and heads down the drain. I grab the faucet control and shift it into first gear and a spray of water returns the stainless steel to its shiny state.
I move to the light switch. First I dim. Like a slow fade the light empties the room as darkness takes over. The glow on the sofa? The behemoth screen of my 17″ PowerBook. My text editor. Static and empty. Where are the words? Where's the post.
I stare. And I imagine these words. There. On the screen. Then I slowly inch the screen on its hinge toward the keyboard. I think again by my sans stimuli Friday. And click. Close.