Inconsistency as an old art form

I like to think I’m quite good at a lot of things. I actually like to think that I’m extremely good at a lot of things. But, in reality, and if I’m being one hundred per cent honest, I know that I’m not.

Sometimes I’m better than others, sometimes worse. Sometimes I’m so terrible I wonder why I even bothered to start in the first place. And sometimes I wonder if it was me that had actually done what I’d done (for better or for worse, it works either way).

But what, I hear you ask in frustration, are these ‘things’ I’m rabbiting on about? Well, I shall tell you, in a roundabout* way.

Anything I do.

Everything I do.

Writing. Reading. Creating unique pieces of computer art. Communicating. Listening. Remembering. Sleeping. Dreaming. Sneezing.

Everything I do, I’ll do it differently the next time.

I write a good piece… I then write a terrible one (complete with speling errors!).
I read the first so many fabulous chapters of an un-put-downable book, and then forget that I’d even started it.
I flourish and embellish and exaggerate and colour-in some work of art which wouldn’t look out of place in trendy art galleries anywhere around the world, and when I next look at it, it’s as though, well, a strange computer virus has attacked my art software and distorted whatever I have done.
I’ve never been a great communicator, verbally, but sometimes I’m magnificent. I really, truly, deeply am.
I have one good ear and one not so good one (just the two!), so I miss a lot of what I’m being told… and sometimes make up my own words to try to catch up, thus getting other things wrong. Sometimes hilariously so (especially when I’m singing along to a song. Enya’s Orinoco Flow will always contain the line Save the Whale, Save the Whale, Save the Whale, as that is how I first heard it many centuries ago).
I remember that line as it was oh so wrong, but can I remember any others? Nope! The tune, yes… well, most of it. I even forget people who I sit next to at work occasionally. Sigh.
Sometimes, I sleep soundly. Other times, I wake about fifty times during the night. Sometimes, I sleep too heavily and feel dreadful, and other times I love waking and sleeping on and off all night long.
I love my dreams. I remember some, but not all. Sometimes I dream regularly, sometimes I don’t. Currently, I’m somewhat in the middle…
And sneezing… sometimes, I break the sound barrier as I sneeze that loudly… other times, I stifle a little achoo in a corner somewhere.

Completely inconsistent. But always me.

It’s the core that matters anyway, not the inconsistencies. Well, that’s how I feel about it. Most of the time.

***

This post has been written in response to Sideview’s Weekend Theme, which this week is Inconsistency… *I didn’t participate in last week’s theme, Swings and Roundabouts, so I added a little sideways mention at the beginning there. If you’d like to participate in Sideview’s weekly challenge pop along to her site, and have a look at some other posts written by other bloggers who may not be as inconsistent as me. I.

***

Incidentally, the words Inconsistent and Inconsistency were first used in a decade very close to my heart. Yes, that’s right. Between 1640 and 1650 the word came into existence.

Is it just by chance that I’m as inconsistent as I am, looking at that rather random coincidence of timing? Synchronicities are never far away… and I have found another link to my 1642 Quest… although its meaning is as allusive as with all of the other links I have found. Answers will be along soon, I’m sure of it. I just have to ask the right questions first of all!

I still feel good though, even with all the questions, answers and inconsistencies. And that, as a good core, is all that matters…

View from the window: Calm

Although the lake wasn’t there the other day!
My Mansion’s at it again…

A Surreal Mind
Living in a surreal world means I can visit the impossible
Things I see vary between the very real and improbable
Some of the things I come across are utterly laughable
But not yet have I experienced anything unimaginable
The mind can take us to places in a manner that’s methodical
Finding answers to queries we first thought unsolvable
Filling in the blanks, incorrectly, is sometimes typical
Yet the power of the mind I find is completely phenomenal

Look into my eyes…

“Is he looking at me?” Shadowcat ponders, before he meanders and wanders arind the Grinds, stopping to wonder, under skies that thunder, should he dash for cover or wait for food?

He returns for a while, sits, stares with his cat ‘smile’ and hypnotic eyes, looking and thoughtfully thinking, purposely purring, yet waiting in style… until the first raindrop makes him run a mile.

“I’ll be back!” I sense him think, as all I can see is a tail, long and black, vanish out back. But I wonder… did his stare put me under … or did I hear him think?

Reservations

“But we’re booked in!” The man was starting to get agitated.

“Please calm yourself, sir.” The receptionist reasoned. “We have no reservations for the name Jones.”

“My wife made the bookings herself. Here she comes now.”

A small lady walked into the lobby, pushing, pulling and carrying four heavy suitcases. She arrived at the desk.

“I’m sorry, Mrs Jones, you aren’t in the system.” The receptionist confirmed.

“Try the name Smith” she said, grinning devilishly.

***

Another entry for Red’s Flash in the Pan. This time, the word limit is 75, and, according to my word count thingy, I’ve maxed out, and used the full 75 word limit. The theme, as it says on the tin, is Reservations.

Diner

The car stalled at the bottom of the hill. Adam turned the key several times, but it wouldn’t start.

He locked the car securely, and set off up the hill towards where he’d seen the bright neon diner sign from the main road several minutes earlier, hoping to use their phone.

Torrential rain pushed him back, but eventually he reached the trailer at the top.

He noticed the green sign on the door: closed.

***

Flash in the Pan time again, this time the flash word is Diner, and the word limit is 75. I’m one word short yet again this time; 74 words have been used.

The Results

Recently I posted, as an experiment, a request for readers of my blog to try to categorise eight of my posts. I wanted to gather if by reading one hundred words, the reader could tell if the post was based on a real event, a dream, a revelation or it was complete fiction.

Thanks to those who took the time to cast their votes. The instructions could have been clearer, in hindsight, but when I first read through the post, before publishing it, it made perfect sense to me… but then, I understood what I wanted from it.

Some of the posts seemed to carry on where the previous one ended, which was done deliberately, as I secretly didn’t want anybody to get any category correct. I didn’t say so, but that also came across in the post. It was Me against the Rest of the World… and a tally of points was needed. The Rest of the World got a point whenever they categorised a post correctly, but I got a point if they categorised it incorrectly.

My aim was to get the full allocation of available points to win. I wanted to beat the Rest of the World completely. And, as I didn’t do this, I lost this part of the challenge.

So, that’s a win for the Rest of the World.

For the first part.

I can now reveal the results of the vote. One point was available for each vote, either going to the Rest of the World if the voter was correct in their vote (guess / choice / inkling) or to me if they weren’t correct.

Six readers very kindly took part in this experiment. I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: thank you! So six points were available for each post…

The House was actually a revelation. An image that I received whilst trying to do a guided meditation. In the moment of the revelation, I could feel the coolness that surrounded me, and I could clearly see the flickering of the candle inside the window. Nobody selected the category ‘revelation’ for this post, so I was the clear winner with this post.

Another Staircase was a dream. It’s actually a recurring dream that I have where I find a staircase, usually tucked away behind a curtain, or door, that usually leads to a hidden floor or room… or rooftop garden. One person thought this was a dream, so that’s one point to the Rest of the World. Five to me, but as I didn’t get the full six points it isn’t a complete outright win.

The Corridor was another revelation, from the same guided meditation as before, although it wasn’t part of the house. Again, nobody selected the revelation category, so another win for me!

Anticipation was based on a real event. I’d somehow managed to get myself roped into singing at a talent evening, and word had got out about it. It had seemed to get out far and wide as the room was packed, far busier than usual. I started singing, quietly, but then left the stage when a voice heckled from the back “What does the dummy do?” Never again have I attempted to perform in public. Two people said this was a real event, so two more points go the Rest of the World.

The Book was completely made up. Total fiction. I wanted to link it to a couple of the earlier posts in this experiment for continuity purposes, but it had nothing to do with them at all. Two readers said this was made up, so another two points go to the Rest of the World.

The Comet was also made up.There was a comet recently that should have been visible, but I never got to see it. And what gives this post its fictional edge is the mention of it being warm. We’ve just gone through the coldest March in fifty years – I was trying to warm things up a little! No reader thought this was a made up event, so I get all six points. Hehehe!

Existence was based on a real event. I have a ghostly visitor every now and again, who I’ve named Dot. I’ve mentioned her a few times in my posts, most recently in this post. Two readers said this was real, so another two points to the Rest of the World.

The Plummet was also based on a real event. Once again, I’d been roped into doing a bungee swing whilst enjoying a break at the seaside. Myself and two friends were hoisted what seemed like thousands of feet into the air, by a crane, and then we had to take out a pin to release us, when we were in free fall for several seconds before the rope caught once again. The swinging was nice, but the falling not so. Two readers correctly said that this was a real event.

So, going off points alone, I was the clear winner, 39 – 9. But, with the Rest of the World winning the first part of the challenge, the overall outcome was a draw. A point each!

World domination isn’t in my blood anyway, so I’m perfectly happy with a draw. At least I’m keeping up with the world, which is always a good thing!

The question

Why is a raven like a writing desk?
What came first, the chicken or the egg?
What is the sound of one hand clapping?
When would when never happen?
Why are some words the same but different?
When can importance be irrelevant?
At what point does new become old?
How, when it’s warm, can you feel cold?
How, when time flies, can it stand still?
Can it be easy to roll uphill?
Do night and day exist at once?
Can there be truth in utter nonsense?
Who’s more artistic, the painter or dancer?
And what is the question that has no answer?
*****

The main question is: what is this all about? Well, I’ll tell you! It’s a response to Sideview’s Weekend Theme this week: The Question.

I started to research the history of the word question, which I discovered was first used around the year 1300. This instantly brought to mind the question what word did they use before then? Incidentally, the word ‘query’, when used in reference to a question, was first used around 1630. The early Seventeenth Century had to make an appearance in here somewhere!

There’s no town, anywhere on the planet, named Question (unless you know otherwise!), although my research did inform me that there’s a place called Why, and another called Whynot.

And the way to spot the constellation Leo is to look for a backward question mark in the skies… which brings in the old faithful lion again… and another question…