Wandering through the Vestibule this morning, I came across the key to the old wooden door down in the Caverns below the Catacombs below the Cellar below the Mansion.
The old door leads out and down to a vast underground canyon with a lava river flowing through it.
The key used to be kept in a Jar beside the door, but they both went missing, only for the Jar to turn up again without the key a short while later.
Now the key’s turned up, I’m left wondering as to how it made its way to the centre of the Vestibule floor… granted I don’t go in there often, but I would have spotted it before now.
But the key isn’t the point (or key!) to this post. The point is the finding of the object after so long. Why is it that when we lose things, and spend hours looking for them, we eventually find them in the first place we checked? The experience is usually joined by words such as “I’ve checked under there” or “why didn’t I see that sooner?” followed by the realisation that we’ve wasted the better part of X hours for no reason whatsoever, apart from searching places where the object obviously wasn’t.
I’m searching for inspiration again at the moment. Inspiration for posts for the blog, that is.
My mind seems to have gone on holiday, and left a brief note saying ‘it’s up to you now kid, get on with it!’
I’ve decided to do some Spring Cleaning. Well, it’s actually more like Autumn Cleaning now… I don’t know what happened to the Summer – although I bet that’ll turn up again when I’m not looking.
So, in the meantime, I’ll be posting when I can, about objects that I come across during the course of said Autumn Cleaning. Hopefully not about old socks and scribbled notes.
And maybe, just maybe, the items will spark something else within me… stoke those fires of inspiration, fire my imagination once again and launch my empty mind down avenues that have never been explored. Perhaps, I’ll be catapulted even further Beyond the Sphere than I’ve ever gone before, and come back with ideas for posts that are simply out of this world.
Or, I could just write about old socks. We’ll see.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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