Patchwork Quilt

The problem of translating sensation and experience into words. Or any communicative form for that matter. Human have struggled with it since... well, since always it seems like. We've dedicated entire disciplines to it. We approach it with art. We approach it with science. We approach it with philosophy, and all manner of things in between. And still we cannot simply show our inner world to others.




Know what I mean?




Arguably, the answer is no. Always no, even if we say yes and believe it. We never, ever really know what somebody else means. We are clever and we guess. Or we model it on ourselves, try thoughts, ideas, images and even emotions on for size. But in the process it becomes once again our experience, not the other's.




Maybe now I've confused you and you feel comfortable saying no. "No, I have no idea what you mean."




Good.




Look. We all need to make sense of experience.And in doing so, it's tempting and convenient to plug it into a template -a template where the experience is transformed into an archetypical story.




Like - OMG I was all unsure of myself. Can I do a 200K? I mean it's so hard, I don't know. But wait... I trained and I did it! Yay!




Although that's a little brief. Let's get the village involved.




So I trained, and my friends were like "We believe in you!" and I was like "Aw you guys!"




Okay, but still a little thin. So hang on, let's add some uncertainty.




Oh no, it's the week before the ride and I overtrained?..




Yes, like that. But perhaps more panic.




Oh no, it's the week before The Ride and I overtrained!




Enter the comments, that post-post-postmodern Greek Chorus.




Chorus 1: You overtrained, oh no!

Chorus 2: You overtrained, I told you so!

Chorus 3: Now you must rest before you go!




Oh gosh, whatever will happen? Will I make it? Be sure to read tomorrow and find out!




I have a bad feeling...




Whenever I say or think that now, Carmela Soprano appears in my head. She wears a tight beige cashmere sweater. Her hair is in a French twist.




I've got a bad feeling (New Jersey accent, thick mascara, eyes full of meaning). Yesthis is what I mean.




Carmela: Tell me, what is this bad feeling?




OMG you read my blog?




Carmela: No, not really. But you know, I was thinking of getting in shape, being more active. Biking to the hair salon.




Oh but that's wonderful! ...Have you tried a Bella Ciao Neorealista?




We hug and share a delicious pastry. Then she rides away.




That feeling of being in a pre-determined script.My inner experience forced into training-diary vocab and follow-along storylines. It's all wrong.




Know what I mean?




Chorus 1:Yes

Chorus 2: No

Chorus 3: Will you ever review a budget bike?




Huh?




Chorus 3:Oops, wrong post.




Oh ok.




Cycling.Something is changing. There is wilting and blossoming and quiet and explosions of sound. I try to think of a better way to explain.