Notes

        You are up and have fed the cats after resting or sleeping for twelve hours.

         I am ready to go back to bed also. Twenty-two years is a long time to be working on an experimental writing project and every so often I find it tiring. I shut down on the concepts, yet last night I found myself thinking of Mother and being empathetic to her position. The shock of finding (in this case) that her grandfather had been keeping secrets of the Dead from her for some 177 thousand years, that the shamans could ‘jump’ into the Living when they deemed it desirable to do so. 

         The ‘jump’ is as an old fashioned quantum leap in consciousness or conscious-thought and somehow I have an imaginary understanding of the experience (as far as the books are concerned) based on twenty-two years of experimental writing. In real life though, there is no such understanding. Imagination can take you only so far in very limited circumstances [in writing] whereas reality is not so limited. I find this an odd mental juxtapositioning.

       This is where Merlyn comes in orndorff. Post and go back to bed. – Amorella.

       Mid-morning, and you are at Pine Hill, finished your walk and Carol is still on hers. You are listening to three older fishermen chatting on their hobby. Funny, straight-on, straight talk, typical small town southern Ohio with a lot of Kentucky, West Virginia background. People Chaucer would have liked and been attracted to. Henry VIII too. Ordinary what-you-see-is-what-you-get people. Refreshing to observe. That is the way it is with close friends, refreshing. – Amorella.

         I am finding myself thinking a question I feel I ‘should’ not think. I wrote the question, then erased it. Here I am suddenly thrown between a rock and a hard place, politeness and honesty. Politeness should prevail but honesty has curiosity stuck to it and that’s where the question sets. Besides, when one has an imaginary friend and one asks ‘who are the other friends of the imaginary friend’ it sounds rather . . . odd. Why would an imaginary friend have other imaginary friends?

         Here’s where it becomes interesting (to me). Is it possible that I really do have two-dimensional multiple personalities that are putting on a production for me (the books) with various personalities playing a variety of parts on the stage (page) so to speak? This I can imagine even though I don’t believe it is true as such. Partly true, a good probability. How else would I come up with all these perspectives and points of view in the books? How would ‘I’ write a self-referential story like this? Who is the antecedent of I? Well, this is an example of the balance beam my thoughts bounce on and off of from time to time. Now, obviously, is one of those times.

         You need to form this into a question you can ask your Facebook friends. – Amorella.

         Why? It seems a waste of time.

         If it were a waste of time we would have shut down for the day already. I find self reflection rather entertaining. By the way Amorella is another name for antecedent here, is it not? – Amorella.

         This is a rather like Judgment Day with gallows humor attached.

         You see, you have thought such things. Others have not, including some of the Dead in the story. Mother in particular. Post and relax. – Amorella.