Things I Could Write About

by Tom Swift

All the parents I see at bus-stops in the morning. School bus-stops, I mean. What are they doing there? It’s like the long goodbye. It’s a school day! Let Liam and Skylar hang with their school-mates for eight minutes! Let ’em have a little unsupervised time before they get on the bus to go be controlled by other adults.


Red lights on empty streets. What is up with that? As someone who frequently drives before the rest of the world wakes up, I have time to wonder how it is we have motion sensors in our homes, how we can now be securely identified by such things as the sound of our voices, and yet I still find myself, as I regularly do, sitting still on avenues in which there is truly no cross-traffic. Here I don’t mean the cross-traffic is light. I mean that I never, ever see another car pass in front of me as I wait to continue on my way to the gym in the morning. Alexa: turn that light green — now.

What is best way to deal with unpleasant memories? Put them deep inside a closet of your mind? Take some step, if possible, to banish them? I had a reverberation from memories I wrote about recently. More than the people or places, I remembered a mood. It was not a pleasant mood. I would not usually choose to be in such a mood. The fact of the memory means it’s in there, like it or not, and so just choosing not to think about it doesn’t make it go away, not entirely. I also want to experience all of life, not just the moments I get to sit in cashmere couches. But when the icky notions land on my table I might also not want to put them in a bowl and stir. Or do I? After all, this seems part of the artistic process — to make something from all of oneself, not excepting the dark bits. Actually, come to think of it, that might be what I am up to in this blog. Or at least part of it. This blog is a means to make from memory? Something else I could write about.