My toilet bowl whispered my name. It happened early in the morning of this past Wednesday and it sent a shudder through me. I hadn't even been engaged with the toilet. I was actually at the sink, rinsing out the mouth guard that keeps me from grinding my teeth (TMI). It was a breathy vocalization - Chhrisss - and it immediately squeezed the breath out of me. It said nothing more.
Of late I've begun labeling posts either Innie or Outie depending on whether they pertain directly with the development of my own work and my own studio endeavors, or if it characterizes those things on the outside the studio that attract my attention and provide a broader framework which might inform or be informed by the direction of my thoughts and work.
I'm a bit stymied on how to label the occurrance of a sentient, whispering toilet....is it an interior act of creation on my part, or is it an example of the exterior world infiltrating my zone of comfort?
I think I'll go with.....
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