Shawn Huelle

An Experiment, pt. 2

Someone complained (that word is a bit strong) to me in person about something I had written online. This sort of thing still happens. I found myself wishing that said person had made the complaint in the comments section online.

The complaint—it wasn't a complaint; it was a comment, which is maybe why I wanted it in the comments section in the online place where the person had read my writing—had to do with how my writing seemed to be simply a collection of dis- and/or unconnected thoughts.

Yesterday, I went for a walk in the woods. I sat in a hut that is part of an exercise circuit in the forest, and read some stories by Lydia Davis.

I read these sentences: "I was tired of so much thinking, which was what I did most in those days. I did other things, but I went on thinking while I did them. I might feel something, but I would d think about what I was feeling at the same time. I even had to think about what I was thinking and wonder why I was thinking it."

There was a pull-up bar in the exercise hut, so when I was done reading, I did some pull-ups. I did two.

I can only do about 17 push-ups at one go. I am not out of shape. I have never understood working-out. And yet, I want to be beautiful like the people I see on television, in magazines, and online.

I just put my rather dull pencil down and did 15 push-ups. I am now breathing more heavily than I was.

If I sharpen the pencil, the quality of my handwriting will change. I think that if one's mental state can affect the way one forms letters, then the opposite could also be true. If I sharpen the pencil, the quality of my thoughts will change.

I was thinking, I really shouldn't have used the word complaint earlier. It was unfair to the person who complained.

I can see three different types of evergreen tree from my window, and one small deciduous tree with red berries.