Any number of my most entertaining blogs evolve from what is but an intrusion of some wholly illogical and bizarre thought appearing quite unheralded and undeserved in my mind’s eye. I say illogical, but of course even the madman’s thought patterns inevitably must have rational in some condition, just not in a form that is easily interpreted by the pronounced normal or sane.
The so-called original thought is no more truly innovative than any other quite mundane realization, just arrives at the point of elucidation from a different tangent, a new perspective, a previously obtuse or ocularly confusing angle. Hence ideas that seem beyond brilliant and astonishingly perceptive can often originate from the least auspicious origin, the itinerant tinker who miraculously conceives the solution to an otherwise seeming impossible mathematical equation, or that first peasant who spied two slices cut from a log stacked with a rectangular flat timber and perceived not a simple heap of firewood but the rudimentary components required to produce a cart.
Personally I cannot claim such a eureka moment, but of course in common with most of humanity my good ideas, the ‘original ideas’ do not really appear in parenthesis, rather they spill out like peas from a sack, wholly indistinguishable from any other Pisum seeds there enclosed. In the matter of podded fruit I admit to being much the layman, otherwise perhaps I might have gained the reputation of an Isaac Newton, or heaven forbid a Leonardo da Vinci.
Thinking, quietly, introspectively, for no other purpose than to understand or illuminate a moment, is that even a concept now? I can recall many a moment when as I child I perceived an older relative staring to some distant point only they could envisage and asking, ‘what are you doing?’ The answer, often taking more than a moment or two to arrive, would simply be ‘just thinking’, or words to that effect. Of course at the time, my energies being as with all youngsters solely based around doing rather than planning or understanding found such pursuits wasteful at best pointless at worst. Age has of course trained that particular cylindrical animal to reconsider his viewpoint. Musing is now a pursuit I enjoy both for elucidation and leisure.