Braindump

When it comes to blogging, I clearly have a problem with commitment. Part of the problem is I am all heat of the moment reaction; so much better suited to Twitter really. Says the man with fewer than 20,000 tweets even after nearly nine years on the service. My point is though, any time I have something to say, a snarky 140 characters is at my disposal now.

So at least let’s try something else. If nothing else, let’s make this blog the director’s commentary for my twitter and pinboard feeds. To borrow a phrase.

Imagine a beach. Turns out many people are weird in that when you ask them to imagine a beach, they actually have a mental image of a beach. Seeing it in their mind’s eye isn’t a figure of speech, they experience a visual component to their imaginings. Which is some sort of mutant power, because people with aphantasia don’t. I’m still not 100% sure I believe that people without aphantasia actually ‘see’ the beach. D assures me she does. D assures me when she dreams it is like being in a movie, that this is not, in fact, something that just happens in movies.

I thought everything in this movie was Hollywood bullshit. Turns out it was only the bit where people can control your mind? Please, tell me you jerks aren’t really getting photo-realistic hallucinations when you sleep.

I don’t ‘see’ the beach. I think. If I close my eyes and imagine the beach, all I see is nothing. I’m mostly convinced that I’m still just not getting the metaphor, that I don’t have aphantasia, because I’m too boring to have something that interesting. I am running out of ideas though on how to make myself the weirdo with the super powers of visual imagination.

David Bowie and Alan Rickman dying mostly passed me by. I appreciated all of their works, but there was nothing personal for me. I was mostly expecting the same from Prince, and yet there I was on the train home that day, watching some videos of assorted performances and shedding tears. D and I saw him on his most recent tour, and it was the closest I’ve ever come to an ecstatic experience.

I won’t go on. Except, while I have a clear memory of George Harrison’s son being part of his Rock & Roll Hall of Fame Induction, but no idea Prince had played. And played that at about 3:25.

How have I not been soaking in that for the past dozen years‽ I don’t care what Tom Petty thought - I can’t quite work out if he was non-plussed during Prince’s leaning back stunt or if he just has resting bitch face - I was totally with Dhani Harrison.

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