Saturday, November 12, 2011

In this age

of digital displays—clocks beside the bed, in cars, on microwaves, ovens, phones, et al.—I find such signs as 11:11 or 7:47 or 12:34 quite talismanic. Wake up or walk into the kitchen or whatever & come across such a display & I think it's a good thing. Not necessarily propitious, but at least offering something positive.

I have similar attitudes towards the chance sighting of particular birds, or the hearing of particular songs that have some sort of charge for me. I don't follow through on them, to check to see if they're prescient incidents, just note them in passing & move on. Enough that they've occured.

Of late, however, they've become something more. Not premonitions, more akin to knots in a rope that provide handholds. I see them, hang on to them, refuse to let go until another one comes along. & they're no longer chance: I seek them out. As I write this, I have a YouTube track of So What playing in a minimized browser.

Nine more minutes of future I don't have to think about.


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