Fog
September 27th
From the distance, the fog looks menacing and impenetrable, but when you actually go inside the foggy air — suddenly the immediate surroundings become clear. Only the circular border beyond the closest sighting is still shrouded in fog. There is a mystery and element of a surprise walking into the fog, but also the pleasure of being enveloped in a still moist cocoon of milky air smelling of wet-and-just-turned-over raw earth. It feels like something primeval, or possibly it is just a projection of some of my well-hidden needs. There is also a niceness of all the edges and contours becoming fuzzy and soft and running like a watercolor painted by an amateur trying to cover a lack of skill by exaggerating the impression of a fake deep meaning. But as you get closer, braving the chalky veil over the face, swiftly the shapes became sharper and real again. Only the crowing of crows still having fun being invisible is haunting the senses with a warning of ultimate terror.
It seems that the fogginess in nature can be quite clearly and exactly applied to the fog in our brains. Sometimes it seems like no matter where and what I look at, I don’t see anything clearly or in the sharpness required to assess the problem in front of me. I usually just walk around it, like a child, trying to guess what is what by touch and experience of outside shape. And learning from mistakes that this shapeless object can be prickly or cold to the touch. But once right inside a problem, once standing right there where the problem can be comprehended, it becomes much easier to make a decision — and walk purposely ignoring the fog that surrounds the path, or just let go of the unclear surroundings to paralyze our resolve and do something.
