I'm still wound up -- I haven't unwound yet -- from my imaginary visit to Skidrow a couple days ago. I've looked back at it, what I wrote, well over a hundred times, and each time I'm filled with many different emotions and memories. It touches me to read it, the complexity of the various relationships and settings (1), and yet the simplicity and sparseness of description that allows for the reader to fill in the scene from his or her own imagination.
It's a five star production. Is there room for growth? I'm not saying there's not; progress is good. But I think I did it in such a way that whatever growth I may yet attain will be only for the purpose of making better what is already very excellent. If you haven't read it yet, I urge you to do so. It's really like you're there, and that's what good writing is meant to do. They were right when they said I had imagination; I might add, I also have the wherewithal to do something with it.
A lot of people have an imagination, of course. But look and see if they have the wherewithal to do something with it. In general, they don't. They're stifled at some point. Maybe stage fright, always second guessing themselves, fear of censure. Usually this comes from issues that were first raised during potty training. But it goes on from there, like when they draw a complete blank during tests, or are withdrawn during school dances. Not me. It's just like how I ended yesterday's reflections on the previous day's post, by pumping my fist and shouting "Yeah! Yeah!" It's not just that I can do it, I know I can do it.
When you know you can do something, nothing can stand in your way. I'm the same in, say, climbing. I can climb trees, houses, trellises, up on roofs, up poles, lookout towers, ladders -- you name it. I do have fear, but I term it cautionary fear; I know that a part of good climbing is to respect heights; it's not just to be reckless. Someone reckless can't climb that well because, being likely to fall they're too afraid. There's some value in being reckless, in that you have initial confidence. But when recklessness fails is when that confidence lacks caution. I hew the middle path. That's why I can climb so well. See what I'm saying? You know you can do it. And caution allows you to succeed.
And I think I exercised very reasonable caution when it came to Skidrow. I didn't actually go there, although I confessed I like to drive on the south of that block and peek down it, but I went there in my imagination. I knew I could do it that way; I kept my caution, which kept the danger in check; and I came out with something that has now stood unchallenged (except my own suggested tweaks) for two days. No one has challenged me, because what could they reasonably say?
When I challenge myself it's just to improve what's being done. Progress is something I believe in. I feel this is a very important subject. I shall have more to say.