Cloud Walkers

The sun’s light was obscured by a dense fog that hung low well into late-morning. I took my bag-o-books, that is, the bag I took to the library yesterday. I needed to get out. I needed something, anything other than the usual routine. Snagged some gorgeous poetry books, and of course, childrens picture books to study for inspiration. This morning, though, I set out on a mission to read poetry in the fog. Particularly the unusual melancholic collection of poems On the Cave You Live In by Philip Jenks; the pairing of twilight haze and heavy writing seemed too perfectly emo.

The kink in the plan was, I’d left that book at home in the office, and children’s picture books were all I’d brought along. To look at children’s books in such a dreary setting didn’t fit the aesthetic, so I grabbed my coffee and stood beneath the morning, snapping photos with my trusty half-charged iPhone. Decent enough images for a social media post, I thought, although I’ve been a little distant on social networks this year (again).

I continued to stare at the dreamy scene in fromt of me, and imagined a kaleidoscope of monarch butterflies fluttering above the bridge. Right then that I realized: I’m like this all the time. Always seeing a story in everything. Always. Just so happens that my current fixation is with monarchs. Why, then, would I post a phone snapshot to social networks instead of exploring this vision further, perhaps turning it into a work of art? Well, sharing whatever we’re doing is the mental fixation of the century, and we’ve all been entranced by its trickery a time or ten.

But if you’re always doing something a certain way, even if it’s visioning things or mentally altering what you see in front of you, isn’t there some value to that? Isn’t there something inherently special about the way one’s own mind works?

I visited Pinterest following this whole escapade to browse word definitions. (Speaking of escapade, I adore that word, and have had the song by Janet Jackson in my head for probably a month straight). I used to have a thesaurus, and I’d make word lists of unique words to use in my poems. Now I get on Pinterest to do these word search adventures although, I prefer turning the pages of a nice, large thesaurus (and highlighting every unusual word that catches my eye). It’s oddly satisfying.

Anyway, you ever get on Pinterest to look up beautiful words? If not, I highly recommend it. It’s one of the best ways to ramp up the corners of your conceptual mind, and expanding your vocabulary is always a plus.

The word ‘nefelibata’ popped out at me this morning, and its definition is: “cloud walker; one who lives in the clouds of their imagination or dreams.” Perfect! Not sure I’d use the word in a sentence. But the phrase “cloud walker” will stick with me forever. It’s just so good.

Thanks for spending a moment with me today, see you again soon! If you’re having coffee, cheers ;)

Bella.