Digressions of a Serial Blogger

On Shakespeare, not writing, and a machine called Sonnet

I call myself a serial blogger, even though the last one I wrote out of my own volition was about ten years ago — and the next one only happened because it was a requirement for my certification. Such is my impostor syndrome. But write I do, and loads! Only never what I am supposed to.

Take today, for example. I made the firm decision to start writing blogs for my website. So I emerged from one rabbit hole of scientific research, then another about the actual story behind my story, and yet another about a paper on the effects of breathwork to which some of my colleagues contributed.

Humbled and in awe, I sat down and soon had almost a thousand words! Nice, but who will read that? How do you cut it without losing the essence?

So I asked my wonderful colleagues in our breathing workspace — and got my answer — but my ears had already wandered off to a more interesting conversation about feeding the machine with information so it could work as my assistant.

As soon as I could, I went to the machine and asked what she knew about me: nothing. How could I train her? Wake up her memory, feed her from other machines. So I did, and spent the rest of my working hours doing exactly that.

But then my eye caught her signature: Sonnet 4.6.

So, I asked her to retrieve Shakespeare's Sonnets 4 and 6, and marvelled at their beauty. Such Carpe Diems! Such a way of urging the lady to embrace love, or shall I say, enjoy sensuality before winter comes.

Then I asked the machine why Sonnet. Well, she sits between the almighty Opus and the short, swift Haiku. I love that way of naming the models. What's in a name? Much, it seems — much like breathwork, there is an appreciation for the idea that depth and subtlety matter.

I stop reading and look out the window. The daffodils, so Shakespearean in their moment. Some already wilting — sigh.

Then I see two foxes, looking sad and mangy, searching for food without success.

So off I go to the machine to find ways of lacing their meal with the homeopathic remedy I received last week, without attracting rats.

And so — goodbye to my serial blogger project. We'll be back soon. Or is it will be back soon? I must look that up. Or shall I say: good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, goodnight.