Today I started working on a new piece that has an emotional event as its reason for unfolding and found myself equating the protagonist's emotional state with that of the Deepwater Horizon oil spill--how an emotionally heavy event can feel like that pump, underwater, both needing to spill into the water to relieve pressure while equally needing to be filled and stopped. It lead me down a research path involving drilling mud, oil spewing into the sea both of the earth but not of that space, needing to be capped, but that capping isn't enough, that it somehow needs to be ended. It was a strange metaphor but one that I hope proves useful. And it was pleasantly strange to consider how the mind works. How the mind finds ways to explain itself that feel both strange and completely true. How the work of writing is both intensely pleasurable but can feel like working out with heavy ropes, their undulations both waves visual and sonic, the work hard and beautiful.