Many people live in dwellings with flat walls that join each other at 90 degree angles. Many people live in dwellings with ceilings that maintain at different points across the room an equal distance from the floor, or lacking this, slope in a linear fashion from one height to another across the room resulting in a ceiling which is, in the same manner as the aforementioned walls, flat. I am not one of those people.
Oh, but once I was! Once I was like you, I imagine. I can picture you now, somewhere out there on the other side of the world, sitting in your rectangular room, opposing walls standing straight and tall and steady, conspicuously equidistant from each other at all points along their length. It would be conspicuous to me, anyway. I imagine you perhaps walked down a hallway to get to this room, and that it ran straight and true, that from the walls no bumps or bulges bellied out as you walked by and that the hallway itself didn't change direction, altering course towards some new destination. Oh, yes! I can imagine that, or I can try, anyway.
I can try to remember a previous life, one in which the domineering right angle hemmed me in on every side. I can try to remember, but I was a different person then, with different memories. Or, at least a different memory. The actual space in my head has changed, I think, to reflect my new surroundings. In order to overcome my preconceived notions back in that previous life I would challenge myself to think outside of the box. Nowadays I find myself with the need to think outside of the trapezoid, or maybe the wedge.
This isn't to say that I've found myself wedged in. In fact, I think quite the opposite has happened. I worry that as I grow older I will come to traverse my mental passageways with the same diminished acrity and awareness with which I find my way down the hallway to the bathroom in the middle of the night. But in my current abode, this is no menial task! Perhaps the midnight efforts expended to relieve myself will in turn be relief for my blundering synapses.
I am not one living with well trained walls which stand where they're meant to stand and which meet where they're meant to meet. I am one living with walls which follow in their extension downward from the ceiling leisurely and meandering paths to the floor below, and which meet each other more often as cusps than as corners.
And I think I may be a better person for it.
Oh, but once I was! Once I was like you, I imagine. I can picture you now, somewhere out there on the other side of the world, sitting in your rectangular room, opposing walls standing straight and tall and steady, conspicuously equidistant from each other at all points along their length. It would be conspicuous to me, anyway. I imagine you perhaps walked down a hallway to get to this room, and that it ran straight and true, that from the walls no bumps or bulges bellied out as you walked by and that the hallway itself didn't change direction, altering course towards some new destination. Oh, yes! I can imagine that, or I can try, anyway.
I can try to remember a previous life, one in which the domineering right angle hemmed me in on every side. I can try to remember, but I was a different person then, with different memories. Or, at least a different memory. The actual space in my head has changed, I think, to reflect my new surroundings. In order to overcome my preconceived notions back in that previous life I would challenge myself to think outside of the box. Nowadays I find myself with the need to think outside of the trapezoid, or maybe the wedge.
This isn't to say that I've found myself wedged in. In fact, I think quite the opposite has happened. I worry that as I grow older I will come to traverse my mental passageways with the same diminished acrity and awareness with which I find my way down the hallway to the bathroom in the middle of the night. But in my current abode, this is no menial task! Perhaps the midnight efforts expended to relieve myself will in turn be relief for my blundering synapses.
I am not one living with well trained walls which stand where they're meant to stand and which meet where they're meant to meet. I am one living with walls which follow in their extension downward from the ceiling leisurely and meandering paths to the floor below, and which meet each other more often as cusps than as corners.
And I think I may be a better person for it.
Genius!
I get up to go pee at least 3 times a night (usually 4 or 5), and I still have to think harder than my sleepy brain wants to in order to navigate to the bathroom without walking facefirst into a wall.
Oh, Matt! You make me smile. :)
your walls are indeed free thinking... And I love them for it! It makes The Window all the more crucial as everything points toward it. Perhaps symbolic for turning to the Light? I'll quit now.