My memory is getting really, really weak. I’m having a hard time remembering every single time, but somehow the things I’ve written here I can recall not only well, but I can also know when it was posted. So, despite spending so much time without writing here I know when something has been already written about.
I once talked about the idea of brickwork, which is the building of great things that happens slowly, brick by brick. I think that is still valid, since I keep doing things at a very slow rate. Unfortunately that doesn’t mean I’m being that patient all this time long.
But once in a while I enjoy seeing the difference only brick only can do. For every little thought, every text written and every page drawn there was a piece of my future and my identity there was being shaped. It was their importance in making the final result better and sharper.
Unfortunately, I am plagued by common sense notions most of my time too. So I don’t always have this appreciation for the small things as much as they desserve. A brick is usually defined as something pejorative, as “another brick in the wall”, but it’s the collective effort, it’s the union of all bricks that make the wall to be what it is.