Sunday, May 31, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
Fish Out of Water
I wrote the first version of the following prose when I was 25 after I had spent 6 months swimming every day to literally save my life. I always imagined that this piece would be the prologue of my biographical novel (to be called Fish Out of Water), which I still have not managed to write 25 years on! I have modified and expanded it over time, but the core tone and impressions expressed within remain unchanged.
FISH OUT OF WATER
By Sue Ellis
By Sue Ellis
Swimming. Twenty laps every morning – I always wanted to be a whale.
Freedom. There is something primitive about being surrounded by the density of water that allows me to shed both the physical and mental gravity of my everyday life. Time stands still and I am grateful that the recurring demands of my existence have no chance of taking hold in the slippery water for the duration of my immersion. The whole experience is ritualistic. I rise early before most people even contemplate that first step out of bed that hurtles us headlong into another day. The morning is still and quiet. I feel only semi-aware of my body as I fumble and stumble my way to the car and drive through the dark and slumbering neighbourhood. Feelings of privilege and silent camaraderie pervade my still numb mind as I join the other sleepy faces being inexplicably drawn towards the entrance of the local council leisure centre. The doorway provides the intersection point where our lives briefly yet anonymously connect. I pass from the real into the unreal (or is it from the unreal into the real?).
Cold water shocks my body awake. Slowly, I start moving, edging towards my goal at the other end of the pool. The water becomes warmer as my blood gets thinner and moves faster through my veins to the extremities. The heaviness of my breathing brings a rush of lightness to the head and I feel consumed by the water – home, at last! The air bubbles massage my face as I push forward through the water. I count the laps, almost subconsciously. My mind is free to pursue thoughts, both deep and random, while my body is occupied by the rhythm. I feel hypnotised and totally liberated.
Lap after lap, day after day.
After twenty laps, the adrenalin pumping through my vascular system is exhilarating. Reluctantly, I stop swimming. I float on my back for a few minutes listening to my breathing as it slows and revel in my triumph over the elements. In the pool – I rule! I know that it is the best that I will feel for the next 23.5 hours.
Leaving my spirit behind in the water, gravity obeys the universal and immutable laws of physics and transforms me from graceful weightlessness to immovable stone as I head through the doorway and back into the real… or the unreal...
Freedom. There is something primitive about being surrounded by the density of water that allows me to shed both the physical and mental gravity of my everyday life. Time stands still and I am grateful that the recurring demands of my existence have no chance of taking hold in the slippery water for the duration of my immersion. The whole experience is ritualistic. I rise early before most people even contemplate that first step out of bed that hurtles us headlong into another day. The morning is still and quiet. I feel only semi-aware of my body as I fumble and stumble my way to the car and drive through the dark and slumbering neighbourhood. Feelings of privilege and silent camaraderie pervade my still numb mind as I join the other sleepy faces being inexplicably drawn towards the entrance of the local council leisure centre. The doorway provides the intersection point where our lives briefly yet anonymously connect. I pass from the real into the unreal (or is it from the unreal into the real?).
Cold water shocks my body awake. Slowly, I start moving, edging towards my goal at the other end of the pool. The water becomes warmer as my blood gets thinner and moves faster through my veins to the extremities. The heaviness of my breathing brings a rush of lightness to the head and I feel consumed by the water – home, at last! The air bubbles massage my face as I push forward through the water. I count the laps, almost subconsciously. My mind is free to pursue thoughts, both deep and random, while my body is occupied by the rhythm. I feel hypnotised and totally liberated.
Lap after lap, day after day.
After twenty laps, the adrenalin pumping through my vascular system is exhilarating. Reluctantly, I stop swimming. I float on my back for a few minutes listening to my breathing as it slows and revel in my triumph over the elements. In the pool – I rule! I know that it is the best that I will feel for the next 23.5 hours.
Leaving my spirit behind in the water, gravity obeys the universal and immutable laws of physics and transforms me from graceful weightlessness to immovable stone as I head through the doorway and back into the real… or the unreal...
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Vogon Poetry...
I have been reviewing some of the poetry/prose compositions that have emerged from my vastly inadequate brain during the years of My Unique Human Experience (MUHE) to date. This motley collection of "Vogon Poetry" (a term that I borrowed from the wonderful book "Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy" by Douglas Adams), has been "collecting dust" ever since each piece was originally written. So, I thought I might bring some of them out into the "daylight" of my blog for an airing.
This first piece is a short poem that I wrote just over 11 years ago (!!) when MUHE was crossing a particularly major Event Horizon:
Premature Dejavu
12th February 1998
Suffering from premature dejavu
I jumped over the precipice
Freefall into my future
Hoping to stop at Willoughby
I don’t know about fate
But I knew about you
This first piece is a short poem that I wrote just over 11 years ago (!!) when MUHE was crossing a particularly major Event Horizon:
Premature Dejavu
12th February 1998
Suffering from premature dejavu
I jumped over the precipice
Freefall into my future
Hoping to stop at Willoughby
I don’t know about fate
But I knew about you
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Pebble Philosophy...
I love the symbolism in this opening paragraph of an article that I read today...
"We are all pebbles dropped in the sea of history, where the splash strikes one way and the big tides run another, and though what we feel is the splash, the splash takes place only within those tides. In almost every case, the incoming current drowns the splash; once in a while the drop of the pebble changes the way the ocean runs."
From the article "Twin Peaks" (on Abraham Lincoln & Charles Darwin) by Adam Gopnik, published in the February 2009 edition of Smithsonian Magazine (www.smithsonian.com).
"We are all pebbles dropped in the sea of history, where the splash strikes one way and the big tides run another, and though what we feel is the splash, the splash takes place only within those tides. In almost every case, the incoming current drowns the splash; once in a while the drop of the pebble changes the way the ocean runs."
From the article "Twin Peaks" (on Abraham Lincoln & Charles Darwin) by Adam Gopnik, published in the February 2009 edition of Smithsonian Magazine (www.smithsonian.com).
Aspirational Quote for Tomorrow...
"Less mature, more drunk!" - from the mind of my friend who is 99.9% 16 years old.
Quote of the Day...
"It is those who know little, and not those who know much, who so positively assert that this or that problem will never be solved by science." - Charles Darwin.
Welcome!
Hello and welcome to The Quantum Foam Room (QFR)!
I have started the QFR blog to record my personal journey through the inevitable Event Horizon and transformational Singularity of this unique human experience.
Many people ask me what "QFR" means. I adapted it from astronomical Quantum Physics "Black Hole" theory - matter crosses the "Event Horizon" (point of no return) of a Black Hole and is then drawn down into the "Singularity", which is "ground zero" of a Black Hole. Matter that passes through the "Singularity" is totally deconstructed and becomes "Quantum Foam" in the vastness of the universe.
Quantum Foam is therefore the ultimate state of non-existance.
I relate to this theory and how it applies to our unique human experience of life. We all become Quantum Foam eventually.
I hope you find my future posts both interesting and entertaining....!
Cheers,
Sue
I have started the QFR blog to record my personal journey through the inevitable Event Horizon and transformational Singularity of this unique human experience.
Many people ask me what "QFR" means. I adapted it from astronomical Quantum Physics "Black Hole" theory - matter crosses the "Event Horizon" (point of no return) of a Black Hole and is then drawn down into the "Singularity", which is "ground zero" of a Black Hole. Matter that passes through the "Singularity" is totally deconstructed and becomes "Quantum Foam" in the vastness of the universe.
Quantum Foam is therefore the ultimate state of non-existance.
I relate to this theory and how it applies to our unique human experience of life. We all become Quantum Foam eventually.
I hope you find my future posts both interesting and entertaining....!
Cheers,
Sue
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