I decided to take myself off for a couple of days back to my roots. As I've sunk deeper into the realms of writing I find that it can't be turned off.
They provide so much colour to life. There was a lovely couple with child aged around 4 who were guiding her around a museum and they were amazingly encouraging to their daughter.
Then the two ladies in the pub, one who was very large, and her conversation was almost totally about food.
The owner of the guest house in which I stayed wanted to talk about his business.
BUT it is what we do. We talk about what concerns us the most almost exclusively and so many conversations are parallel in nature.
I wouldn't change a thing.
When we write our stories true human behaviours should figure and we have a responsibility to ensure that this is the case.
I was fortunate in that the room I occupied had a sea view and that is inspiring all by itself for me. Even though the chilly North Sea was as calm as a millpond, it was never still, and reminded me of a child diagnosed with ADHD who had just eaten a pack of Haribo sweets washed down with orange juice high in e numbers. It is never still! There's so much latent power waiting to burst forth.
I like going to museums but today was the first time that I've ever been emotionally moved by the exhibits. There were a few circumstances that combined together to caused my reaction. It's a year to the day since my mum died and my father was first a marine engineer and then a mining engineer. There were displays of houses through the ages and went it got to the fifties and sixties coupled with my recollections of life as a boy - just about did for me!