Life as Improvisation

A theme can be heavy handed, like a hammer to the temple, or it can be a gentle undercurrent that runs nearly invisible through a work. The latter suits me better and is what I strive toward when writing. Even when it doesn't appear, it at least informs. In fact, the more it informs and the less it appears, the better it works.

I'm speaking in absolutes, but for the record, these are my personal opinions. My bias is toward subtle shades and shadows that are barely detectable unless you look closely and with care. On the other side of the partnership, as a reader I take great pleasure in discovering nuggets that aren't immediately obvious on first glance. It's like a reward for paying attention and thinking, which are mental processes that should be rewarded.

Again: my essay, my opinion.

What might a theme be? Ducks could be a theme. So could fountains. In the context of the lead photo, those are hammers to the temple. Something more nuanced might focus on how ripples in the water disrupt an otherwise placid surface, necessitating minor adjustments by those who glide on that surface (i.e., ducks) to stay on course.

We're speaking in metaphor here. I have no idea what course a duck might want to maintain, especially when the only real option is to float around in a relatively small circle.

On the other hand, ducks can fly. So if these guys ever get tired of floating, they can always just take off and go somewhere else. Which leads to another possible theme: What are the perceived limitations of the environment we find ourselves in at any given moment, and how might we overcome those?

I'm just making this up as I go along. Hey, there's another theme: life as improvisation.