It has been so long that I have managed to keep a regular blog that I fear I have lost the critical eye to look at my day and pull from it a little story that I could weave into a narrative to help me stay in touch with friends and family back home.
While living in northern France a number of years ago, I had slowly mastered the skill and I still remember fondly a story about buying condoms for the first time. It is usually something you don’t want your parents reading, especially when you know deep down they’d rather you wait for marriage. Thankfully they had nothing to fear. I went to France a virgin and returned one as well; still I was prepared.
I can’t say how I chose my stories, there was usually something little. A nugget. Nothing big. From there it just sort of took a life of its own. Something as trivial in France as cooking in my room, turned into a full series of posts about how to cook clandestinely in your room using little more than a kettle and a thermos (to this day some of the best pasta or rice I have ever made).
So, why can’t I still find those nuggets here? Those little gems? Well, it may well just be because I have stopped looking. With courses, meeting new and wonderful friends, trying to stay on top of my readings (I am still three weeks behind on some) and course work I think I just forgot to keep a passive eye our for that little piece of something that might make a little story later in the day.
So here’s hoping that by the end of the month and this exercise I may have retrained my eye, ear and mind to stay open to a hidden narrative. Wish me luck.