The well of plots

I have a well of plots.
At home, in my cave, there are dozen of dozens of books, notes, sketches and synopses. It dates back from when I was five years old, my mother collected books of my drawings and poems. If my descendants don´t burn it all on a bonfire, some brave souls will have an interesting time searching for the gold nuggets amongst the sand corns.

I read about Thomas Edison, the near-deaf, ADHD child, the inventor, nicknamed the Magician of Menlo Park. In Menlo park, his immense laboratory that covered two districts, contained samples of "everything": 8000 types of chemicals, screws, needles, wires, human and animal hair, silk of all sorts, hooves, shark teeth, turtle shells, rubber, every mineral, etc.
What a well of inspiration!
Our surroundings are playing a role. Heck, our chaotic working-spaces are essential to some of us! I don´t need all those ink glasses on my desk, or the clay figurines, or the bust of Bjorneboe. I would have more room to draw if the stack of wood cases were gone, or the pencils and the colors placed somewhere else.

But I love to see my thingies. They represent possibilities to me!

When I look back, I can see how heavily influenced I was of the environment of my time. The books I read, toys I played with, the films I saw, the comics I bought. The music, my friends. And of course, the nature.