My estimable friend Jackie Morris, artist and illustrator, writer of books, friend of bears, has some questions she would like us to answer (you can find more details here – http://www.jackiemorris.co.uk/blog/a-survey/ – including the prospect of prizes if you so incline).
Here are the questions:
- If you could see through someone else’s eyes who would that be?
- If you could see something one more time, what would that be?
- If you could make something, anything, what would you choose to make?
- How would you describe your desire?
- Do you make wishes?
- Do you dream?
- If you could develop a skill before you die what would you choose?
- Do you have any regrets? if the answer is no please move to question 8a.
8a. What are your regrets?
I like 8a. Honesty is the best policy (apart from outright brazen lying)
My first reaction was to feel sad and think that I could not really answer any of those questions. Then I decided I would try anyway.
So, first question, through whose eyes would I see?
an albatross, I think. I like the idea of that lone cruising
‘Through the dark cold and the empty desolation,
The wave cry, the wind cry, the vast waters
Of the petrel and the porpoise.’
as Mr Eliot so admirably puts it.
Next, what something would I see again? ‘Something‘ excludes people, and a host of bittersweet possibilities; so I would say – what? I do not know. Perhaps I do not believe you can see anything again – it will always be different. As Heraclitus observed, you cannot step in the same river twice.
What to make? I have lately become enamoured of the whole process of making books, having recently made one hundred of my own (see here: Making McAvinchey) So, something possible and specific – a hydraulic printing press like this one: http://affordablebindingequipment.com/hydraulic-letterpress-printing-press/
How would I describe my desire?
Not fervent enough, alas, but I will try to burn hotter.
Do I make wishes?
Do I dream?
yes, both waking and sleeping.
What skill would I develop? Letterpress printing or working a lathe.
That I did not do more; that I held back and lacked courage; that I thought too much and felt too little; that I did not love enough.