Digression about finding a pen.

here I stand , in front of the desk , not your desk , not mine either , the desk . Here I stand , under my feet there’s wood, wood from the cabin : Rocky Bay . Rocky Bay is not a classical house made out of wood ; but if I have to talk about Rocky Bay I should talk about what it is before saying what is isn’t. So, it’s one of the most beautiful place I’ve ever been to ; but that probably won’t help you that much . A Bay, a Beach, some Logs (less then ever ) , a red Deck with a bench all around , a blue Table, some pots with nice flowers (sorry it’s hard to leave subjectivity , I think it’s impossible) : Lavender , Rosemary , some yellow one…, then a Cabin . Rock Bay isn’t just that , it’s a bigger propriety first , but it’s also a spirit ; something you can’t touch . I digress ; here I am standing in this cabin in front of the desk, a quoit nice one with cool handmade pots full of feathers and brushes , a pair of binocular and other junk on the top of this desk . Inside some white leaves and a lot of object and paper of different size and colors . I take a few sheets , more then a few , let’s say a bunch of sheets. With them I make a booklet to write stories that I have planned to make : that was the plan and as far that I know I’m using it . I was already imagining myself writing stories about mystical things ; describe the things you can’t touch . But a wise man one’s said “if you want to write something , you need a pen “ that old man didn’t knew about computer . Actually he didn’t knew a lot of things ; he didn’t hear about writing machine or simply about pencil. But for me he was right : I need a pen . Here I stand with my booklet in my hand and no pen ! I turn my head on the left no sign of pens , it was a mistake ; i should have never looked left ; left is always wrong , I mean look they’ve done with this country ! If right wing was in power , well… it would probably be worst ; I don’t blame them but I must admit that they handled the slave question quite badly … but i won’t say they are all dumb , they’re different… I look to the right : no pen. I’m getting anxious . I walk a bit around these blue armchairs . A shelf full of games and kids supplies : there must be a pen there . The anxiety was growing…, Rain forest animals tattoos but no pen. Pen, pen, pens ! It's bringing me crazy ! Bigger it grow, faster it grow : that’s my anxiety . I’m thinking to much ! what if there’s no pen ? how will i write about mike’s new car , Patrick’s problems with chocolate , and me writing this story ! Oh! an idea , ideas is one of the rarest things; Ideas can not be touched . The creative process of a writer is very different then mine ; because i’m not a writer . So usually ideas just pop’s up in my head , the idea depends of my mood what I’ve ate and the idea itself . I can tell when my ideas are good when it’s a bad one . and when i’m not sure it’s usually even worst . But this was a good idea ! writing about me trying to find a pen! Well, now that have done it , I feel happy sitting in one of the blue armchairs watching the bay thinking of this fish living in there with… the end , julien perret, 2018 , July , the 27th