Today’s topic: on the curation of things.
There’s no rhyme nor reason for it, really, this obsession with the curating of things. Clean the floors, wipe a surface dust-free, for there is a vision in my head that crept out of my daydreams. One moment you are watching the clouds pass through a gray sky. You are wondering why spring has come so very early, like an unexpected house guest arriving the week before her due arrival. You feel a sudden rush of sunlight hit your toes and the daydream begins its dance. It’s almost tribal in nature, the way ideas begin to howl a war cry in the brain.
And suddenly you realize: this. This is what must be, here, now. It’s not the natural way of things, but does not feel inherently unnatural. It’s as if all of time has been waiting for you to create this moment. A letter was postmarked ages ago to arrive at this moment, and here it is: a curation of reality, collided.
In a rush, before the sun grows weary and turns away, you gather. You create this curation of things.
Thus, the dream becomes a reality.