Farting On One End Of A Wind Tunnel And Running Down To The Other End Because...

I don't usually write about feelings. That's just not my thing. I don't spend alot of time talking about them, and I don't like to read books where everybody's feelings are explored to no end...

If I had to ask myself why, it is because I think they are pretty universal. If your dad dies, most people will think about the death of someone they loved and understand, at least basically, what you feel. And so it is with even the simplest of feelings. "I feel ugly". Who hasn't looked into the mirror and seen their hideous side, splotchy skin and swollen morning eyes staring back at them.? "I feel all alone in a room full of people." I bet that has occured to most people? "I feel full." Pretty common. "I feel lust." Very common. "I feel broke." "I feel happy." "I feel angry."

I can relate to all of those.

Which is why blog entries that talk about feelings never interested me much. Yeah yeah yeah, you have those too? Who knew?

So when I think I want to write one-- a blog entry that deals with feelings-- I get all hesitant and uncertain and resentful that I have this feeling that I want to write a blog entry about "this feeling that I have". I get all "mannish" and want to just swallow and spit. I want to beat it with a hammer and fix it. I want to read the first few lines of a manual and then put it together.

But as I age, I figure, what the hell. Throw the damn thing against the wall and see if it sticks. Play it on a pot or pan and see if anybody recognizes the tune. Perhaps it is a feeling that is also universal, like love or angst or sadness?

Maybe if I told you about it, I won't feel all alone in a room full of people for a few minutes, and that might be nice?

Maybe if I spit it out, it might just glisten in the sun?

Anybody who has ever spent anytime creating something, whether it be a candle on a stick or a silly song or a finger painting or a nanowrimo novel, can probably relate to the moment when they hold it up and say "Here it is!" and they look around the room to see the reaction of anybody who bothered to look to begin with. The feeling of making something that wasn't anything, before you showed up, looking to woohoohoo with somebody willing to simply check it out.

I mean think about it, the exression-- "Look what I made" requires a response from somebody or else it is a silly statement.

"Look what I made..."

"Look what I made..."

Kids say it all the time looking for approval. Most adults know that approving is a good thing for these kids. They will gain in confidence. Self-esteem. All good stuff. When a kid says "Look what I made", I always look. I almost always say "Wow!" and then I check it out, looking at it from angles only a really amazed person would look at it from. Whatever it is. "You made a fake dog turd! Cool! You dried it on the funny pages, look, there's Snoopy!" That sort of thing. Universal right?

Ever make something, and feel you have just farted in a wind tunnel?

That's what I am trying to get at.

The feeling that yes, even though you can invent and create something, it still blows out the same vent as the rest of the air?

The feeling that there is too much air flowing to begin with, and as an individual, you are no match for the sheer volume of air blowing by you?

If I am not making myself clear, it is because I never write about feelings. They are universal for the most part, but they are fuzzy things that are hard to use words to describe.

It is the feeling that what I make is so small and inconsequential within the scheme of things and the backdrop of the universe as we now know it, that it won't wrinkle a nose or cause one to hold their breath or even make a pair of eyes water.

I am farting in a windtunnel, and running to the other end to see what effect I've had.

Is that a universal feeling?