Rainbow on a Carpet

Being very much a minority art-form since time immemorial, all one can hope for is to create well, that which appears, here and in the applications with which literature's delivered to a minimum six hundred million of us who speak, read and write the quarrel within ourself that is..this experience of a container and lens, mind and consciousness presenting itself: us in what we construct, demolish, taunt, jib, jibe, offend, turn on, woo, live and Love with via a 'technology of the intellect' - Language.

On the planet, are 1.8 billion speakers, readers and writers of varying proficiency, ability and talent for playing themselves in this Language. Just one percent of which, are 200 million potential customers with a sincere and (possibly) passionate interest in anything one presents that they believe 'good' enough to read, first - and then purchase because a spell compelling them to read again because it is poetry, enacts the charm of an author's native wit and nose for a real 'it' which cannot be solved nor analysed, only recognised and harnessed, understood not drily, static and detached, but passionately, full of life and actualized by - imbas: a Gaelic word meaning mental excitement within the imagination, a poetic fizz and inspiration one need possess when in the comas and throes of a compositional go. Writing.