
My accelerated hallucinations continued, I saw characters, ugly fiends, great mythical beasts and heroes from the yellow pages of handed down story books, they lived in the wall, awake when I slept, asleep as I woke. As I stared I would hang out of the bed, lie upside down to change the view, squint through half closed eyes to accentuate some feature or wait till dusk so that strange lights would reveal bumps and blemishes behind the paper and add elements of relief that I could liken to the faraway Himalayas or Andes, plucked and embedded as in some red map of the Empire in Mercator's Projection from my dusty school room. I played with my eyes and a newly fertile mind making some imaginary canvas from the dull pattern and if I was bored I didn't realise I was. I knew instinctively how to fill time. Now I am older and the sense of seeing and playing has dulled and thankfully we have no wallpaper and my vision and playful mind is stuck elsewhere.
No comments:
Post a Comment