Jammed Up

Hello everyone, yes, I am still breathing.

But my eye still demands more time to get back to normal, it appears. If I were to describe what is going on now, I would like you to think of an old-fashioned way with jam.

You cooked up the jam, it sputters and spits, you poured it into jelly jars (about 8 ounces, if that much), and when it finally all calmed down, you’d pour a lot of melted paraffin on top, harkening back to the fat-topped containers of yore. Well, the best description here is to imagine the paraffin just before it congealed. There would be clear spots and cloudy spots.

That’s my eye these days. Truth be told, the clear spots are getting larger. I am hopeful for a fairly complete recovery.

In the meantime, my brain’s working overtime. Along with my project on colonialism, and its clone – exile, I’m looking at food paired with smoke, burning wood, and ashes.

And I am seeing more signs of spring, always an elevating event.

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