The explanation, of how shoots of bamboo were moved from an alleyway of a friend’s house, put into the back of a pick up truck and planted in our garden, a tale of renewal during the perfect time of year for renewal. Spring bringing a little bit of sun, the summer bringing even more change. How can I react to such a change. How can I fill a notebook with my doodles if I don’t own one? How can I record my thoughts when there simply isn’t any time? I can’t begin to fathom how to answer these questions.
Questions seem to fill the days so far, questions like how am I going to write with two children? How will I learn 3D Animation over the summer? Will I ever throw off the shackles of my old self and really be able to just live?
These sorts of questions really just tend to bring on more questions. And nothing could be worse than a blogger chasing his own tail. But reflection is in order, so before the new dawn comes, before I just go ahead and lose myself completely, I will offer this journal.
Kronski Confidential is a re-branding, a new way to look at my world. And it is just for me. A scratch pad of ideas. One of those journals I used to keep, draw in, sketch out whole series of magazines. I would write until the syntax of the sentences became as inscrutable as the penmanship. When after writing three hundred lines in freehand. Me the writer, a lefty who writes in blue or black ink, usually black ink, the black ink smudged there, like a teacher who still uses an overhead in 2010. A left-handed person who never bothered to adapt to this world and that.
You don’t write for awhile, you write fiction fiction fiction until one day all the little triumphs of the day are lost. This is me bringing it back again. This is me stepping from behind the mask of my characters. This is my journal! Let it roar, let it vomit, let it use adverbs and flowery language and do all the stuff it’s not supposed to do like hang out with the wrong crowd, and bring girls home at all hours and generally make a mess of things.