19. What I Collect
I mean. Dust, mostly.
Ok, so for real. I honestly don’t really collect much of anything any more. Back when I was a teenager, before it got prohibitively costly, I’d collect music I loved. I had the entire catalogue of Queen CDs, including several rare releases, live release, solo albums, foreign releases, as well as VHS concerts, music video compilations, documentaries, and something like half a dozen books, including a book of narrative poetry about Queen and the author’s own experience in Queen fandom. It was a lot. I mean, I don’t think I’ve felt quite that devoted to something for quite that long since.
I, in some sense, collect poetry forms, since I actively seek them out and I’ve written in at least thirty different, distinct forms, and I love reading about their orgins and playing around with them to see what they can do. But that’s a collection of an entirely different kind, isn’t it?
Maybe I should find something worthwhile to collect again.
I’ve been painting birds again. In some earlier iteration of this blog, I definitely had a pretty low-quality phot of the first “Birds on Black” paintings I did, on a stack of black plastic plates my late grandfather had left with my mother. Well, the past few days saw me with enough time and space to break out my arcylics again, and I painted two more, bringing the collection to five total. The sun has gone down here, and the lighting in my home leaves much to be desired, but I intend to photograph all five and add them to my Art Gallery tomorrow.
It’s Thursday. If you are able to be home, I hope you are comfortable; if you have to work tomorrow, I hope you are safe. Whereever you are and whomever you are with, I hope you are kind. Take care.