That shimmering moment when ideas are fresh and things flow and the energy is right. It passes. I deliberate. I wait.
The bag deflates.
When I’ve the wherewithal, the focus, the confidence, the attention to apply to them it’s a year late. A decade.
The actual making of these things feels like some academic exercise. A technicality addressing a past moment. The filing of a husk of a former idea.
It isn’t about natural rumination or cognitive processing, it’s just another hesitant loss of yet another idea.