Something is itching at the back of my Brain or my Heart or wherever things will itch me when they want to jump out and take form in the World that I imagine is real. Where is that place, exactly? And is it important to know that location, is it where inspiration speaks to me? Is it just a cluttered area, like my studio, out of which ideas fall into place, made up of various pieces of odd things that would never normally fit together? I can’t say for sure, I only know that spending too much time trying to figure that out will cause the original itchy thing to disappear, even if it never fully took form inside of there, I think it was really just the longing to make a little piece of writing that would shake up the world somehow, the world I imagine to be real, the one in which my computer appears before me and I type in the words that pop up in my brain. Outside this morning it smells like Earthworms, like all the dew on the grass is that sticky stuff that gets on your hands and dries up after you have been handling Earthworms. There are leaves on the grass, too and maybe they are what makes that smell. The leaves are brightly colored now because it’s Fall but they are still fresh, they haven’t started to fade and turn into soil yet. The weather has been extremely nice, which is wonderful but it gives that feeling of sadness, that last little bit of warm weather, that fleeting feeling that everything is on the brink of changing. It is much cooler at night but still in the 80s during the day and the sunlight is perfect now, golden and illuminating everything, causing it all to glow. So much is happening right now in the world, not my imaginary world but the one that I hear about on the news, that people talk about by the watercooler or on the sidewalks and in the restaurants and cafes. The world is turning topsy-turvy, it isn’t just the changing of the seasons but the changing of ideas and those who refuse to be open to the new ideas, who are standing in the way of the advancement, those people are mad and they are swelling up and I can feel them growing and bulging, like they are going to explode. If only they could see it the way I do. If only they could see the good that comes with a little more knowledge and a dash of hope. Unfortunately it may be beyond their control, it is certainly beyond my control. I am just a Human, trying to get the itchy thing out from inside of me, the one that wants to jump from my thoughts and take form right here in front of me. It’s almost as if I could create some new life, some new thing, some whole other existence. Doesn’t that seem so bizarre?