Food for Thought
By ice rivers
Who knew about the BFF relationship between baboons and impalas? When I think of a baboon, I think of a screeching, red butted pain in the ass throwing feces all over the place.
When I think of an impala, I conjure up a visual of a graceful, deerlike creature bounding fluidly and freely through the Serengetti.
These contrasting images remind me of the dual nature of my writing. Synthesis would suggest that occasionally my writing can resemble that of a graceful, freedom loving, lightning quick, red assed, turd hurling pain in the ass.
Of course, somewhere in this picture is another snapshot of a singled out, doomed impala carrying three or four female lions, who appeared from out of nowhere, on its back as it transforms into a jungle buffet fit for a dozing king.
Baboons come in handy by doing their best to minimize the pride feasts. Boons are a living, breathing, breeding, grooming, evacuating early detection warning.
Impalas and baboons hang around together because baboons have a way of screeching when they sense the approach of lions. This works great for impalas because they hear the warning screech of the boon and they bound away for another day of elegant, grazing survival.
The reason this arrangement works well for baboons is just in case a lioness appears from out of nowhere and surprises the baboon in the midst of a turd throw or groom, well guess what? The baboons know that any self-repecting lioness would much rather devour an elegant, luscious, delicious impala buffet rather than a bony, lean, stink ass baboon appetizer.
Each protects the other and enhances their mutual freedom.
So perhaps, when we writers throw our fertile, excessive creativity around in anxiety filled, ideagraphoric funk fits perhaps it is our way of preserving freedom of thought for everyone who is paying attention.
Yup, it could be.
It's all about relationships and food.
Writers and readers and words.
Sometimes the food is for thought.