Where inspiration tries to land, an overweight and scruffy owl with a squint

I think about owls some times. Usually during the day because in the night they become slightly creepy. But in the day, they seem to enjoy not taking themselves too seriously. Like a bunch of old friends who are used to cursing and spitting on each other. Frivolous? Is that the correct word? Not sure.

Anyway, yeah owls. Good old owls.

I think they would make some fantastic stand up comedians. If they can just keep that same expression on their face. Through the entire set. Just looking, big eyed, staring. Perhaps a really long wink now and then. And then boom again with the big eyes. Just staring ahead. Joke after joke. With that same goddam expression.

.

I don’t like decreasing attention spans for both, consuming and creating. There is a very silent joy about savouring an idea, building it bit by bit. Letting the flavours slowly make their way in, slowly because that is the only way to make them stay. Not really knowing what it is eventually going to taste like. But still savouring it.

It is like that tea you make with hot water poured over the leaves. The kind you have to just let it rest for some time.

I dont know where this is going. But instead of tearing this sheet down and chucking it somewhere, I am going to just leave it here.

For you to stare at.

Like….you know.

Owls.

 

 

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