All it takes is one unique image,\neither fleeting or lasting, and that image can strike a kitchen match\nto the imagination of a writer. Or an artist. Or a musician. It can\ncome from people or nature, anywhere. One merely has to be aware to\nnotice. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A new image arrived today. It rode past\nme in a windstorm. It was riding so fast I barely saw it. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There I was at my usual corner table in\nthe dive bar, writing a love letter to a loveless person, when\nsomething outside the window caught my eye. I looked and saw a man\nriding a bicycle down the sidewalk along Highway 101 and strapped to\nhis back was a chainsaw, slung like a rifle. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Now this was no grandmother pruning\nchainsaw. This was a saw with a 42-48 inch bar, a beast, a saw a\nlogger might use to murder a watershed. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I’d never seen a man riding a bicycle\nwith a chainsaw on his back, much less riding on a sidewalk during a\nwindstorm. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Where was he going with the saw in\nthe windstorm?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n How was the saw going to be used?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Stolen?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Meth?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Who was such a man who would carry a\nchainsaw in such an usual way?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n I have no idea where this image will\ntake me as a writer. This is merely a first pass. I sense it will\nsurface in my Western, as will the image from years ago, when I saw a\ntopless woman riding a bicycle into a clearcut. These two images\nmight blend together in some way. \n<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" All it takes is one unique image, either fleeting or lasting, and that image can strike a kitchen match to the imagination of a writer. Or an artist. Or a musician. It can come from people or nature, anywhere. One merely has to be aware to notice. A new image arrived today. It rode past […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":5717,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5716","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-meditations","has-post-title","has-post-date","has-post-category","has-post-tag","has-post-comment","has-post-author",""],"builder_content":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5716","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5716"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5716\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5719,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5716\/revisions\/5719"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5717"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5716"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5716"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5716"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}