There are days when I cannot stop thinking about, arranging and rearranging words in my head, something seems to have inspired me, yet when all the hustle and bustle ends and I finally sit down to write them down (somewhere, this blog, a piece of paper, one of the many journals I have begun and never managed to follow through) and that inspiration morphs into a checklist, a to-do list, an email, or completely disappears, fleeting to the depths of my mind, often to surface at a totally irrelevant and inappropriate place and makes me look totally dumb for pulling over somewhere and writing on a piece of credit card receipt.
Here are a couple that I fished out of my purse:
(can't read the handwriting here, probably written while driving?)
Seems like two ends of a sectional that never quite fit together, always a bit crooked, needy of pushing around...
Those crazy pink flowers have bloomed in the most ridiculously awkward curve, threatening to make me giggle and lose control somehow (ok, this was written in traffic, I remember this from last week)