It has been bothering me for a while that my last blog post before my creative endeavours petered off is a rant. Not because at the time it wasn’t rant-worthy but because if someone finds this blog they will think that it was all about the misery. Well, actually it wasn’t (and the eagle eyed among you will note that I am now using the past tense.) It, I hope, was about the joy and the wonder, and at times about the loneliness, the longing; about the mundane, the extraordinary; and, on occasion, the ordinary, but not too much of that.
What happened next, as often happens in life, became a little complicated. I couldn’t write it down at the time, mostly because, as those of you who know me can testify, I am a border line compulsive truth teller who doesn’t do so well when a situation calls for subtlety. I am not going to record everything, and I can't remember it anyway but it feels important that this tale gets 'finished' not least because it was only in the process of leaving, and having left, that crystallised my views, and gave this story a proper end. So what follows in the next couple of posts is basically about what happened when we left San Francisco, but via a trip to Blighty first.
Having said all that though, I am back in the UK having adventures of a very different sort and I am thinking about blogging again. I still have so much to say. I have a lot less time now, but I have enjoyed it, and some people have even enjoyed reading it, but this is the end of High Fructose Corn Syrup, a journey of one year, seven months and a few days spent in San Francisco.
No comments:
Post a Comment