Mushrooms

I am inspired by a kindly comment left on my last blog regarding my comparison between hatching thoughts and mushrooms. Being left alone in the dark etc. and then along comes something delicious with a little butter, salt and pepper, of course. I never thought of writing that way. That it might be a tasty bite for someone besides me. The only reason I bother with this activity is that the thoughts awhirl and atwirl in my poor head are out and I can pretend I am normal for awhile until something else starts to bedevil me. Then I am sat back in front of this thing or else looking in despair at a blank page wondering should I write about this or that or should I just poke the pencil through my eye and have done with it !
This is not a new phenomenon but rather an unfortunate state of affairs that has plagued me most of my life. It seems when I was two I drew a recognisible picture of a sailboat. I have seen said picture. It was put in a scrapbook and looked to my critical eye like a scribble. But no the cat was out of the bag and if I wasn't drawing I was writing. An epic poem I wrote about a skunk ended up on the notice board in the school hallway. I was seven and that was it. Fame and fortune would surely find their shining way to my door. Sadly no. To have recieved an education and to chuck it away for a dicey life in the creative arts was in my neck of the woods akin to slapping on the warpaint, hauling up your skirts and hitting the streetcorner! Apart from what will the neighbours think there was a genuine concern for a precarious future with hit and miss income. These people had been through a depression and a war and you would not believe the bags of sugar that could be found at any one time in our kitchen cupboards. Unfortunately I let their fear become mine and it led me on a long detour. Never mind, all roads lead to Rome and here I am plodding along the Via Appia. Someone is reading this, so fame is sort of mine. It just took a little longer.