We are all storey tellers.
Sharing stories, telling tales, spinning yarns.
It’s an art, a gift we all share where we indulge
Some primal urge to sit around a fire
And recount the past and speculate on the future.
Be it campfire, the old parlour victrola
Or an I-Max screen with Dolby sound
We need to share stories.
And so do I.
So forgive me this recent barrage of postings
From Palimpsest, my showcase of bits and pieces.
Some are old, but most are recent as I’ve honed my craft,
Expanded my toolset and widened the scope of my inquiry.
I put a lot of work into them.
They don’t come fully formed.
Each one needs to be shaped and moulded many times
Before they become even closely finished,
Before I’m prepared to sit around the fire
And share them with an audience.
I enjoy telling stories, spinning words into scenes
That tantalizes or strike someone’s fancy.
It may be prose. It may be poetry.
Or it may be the reflection of a dream.
Do I have a talent for it?
It gives me pleasure and that’s enough.
I’ll keep churning out these postings
Until I’m forced to stop when the well runs dry
Or someone says ‘Enough’