Words drift and glide above the edge of my sleep. In dream what is said is often far from clear.
As I write I place one idea in front or behind another. Language arrives as a thin line of meaning that makes its point before it stops. Language, written and said, is linear. It starts then ends. I can dip in and out of a conversation, but it cannot be heard all at once as a painting can be seen.
Language by its nature, as music, is a child of time.
A piece for piano, violins, viola and cello arises from a period of loss.
We open our arms in the hope we are accepted. We are held by those who care for us.
We hold those we care for, no matter our difference.
In England, candidates with the most votes in each constituency win. Losing candidates win no representation at all. I have voted for over forty years and in all that time candidates I have cast my vote for have never won. I live in a defective democracy. A proportional system with the right to abstain, and compulsory voting would be democratic. Nevertheless, I vote because it is my right. I vote so my voice is counted in opposition. I vote because it is a rare privilege born of sacrifice. If you can, vote!
A place where one fresh thought is presented every day.
Think This Today is the creation of Mike de Sousa, an artist, writer, and composer.