Rosaline Honeycock

  I tend to have a line — a thought, a quote, a little jazz — something which I’m inspired by. If I’m bothered, I commit that line to memory and wait till the mail is due. If I’m not out licking stamps or feeding the ducks, I take a little time working around that line, building some sort of context, trying to give the old one-two enough kick for Rocky’s fist to take your breath away. Adriaaaannn!  Sometimes there’s more than one ‘line’; strands begin to intersect and weave, calcify, and take shape. Lagerfeld would be pleased. Occasionally the picture is one of those lines. Other times the picture is the line, and thus becomes a writing prompt. If I’m desperate, I use a picture as a simple backdrop for text.
   
  More often than not, I’m just trying to break the monotony of straight-cut Elle’s, dotted Eye’s, and fancy loops with a fat dose of colour. Blogs are so much more than commas and semicolons — more than ideas teased apart and etched out in black and white, arranged carefully and conveyed in a portrait of words. A string of text posts begin to beg for shades of aqua and rich maroons after a while, so who am I, a lonely beggar, to refuse?
   Jashua, that’s who.