Welcome to my Crooked Turret

I’m not exactly sure where we’re going yet with this blog, being somewhat new to blogging. But I imagine it’ll be a somewhat meandering journey of thoughts and observations.

Starting is often the most difficult part, I find. I contemplated describing myself, but I’ve always found it difficult, and perhaps even pretentious, to do that. What does it mean if I say I’m female? Or that I live in Asia? They don’t reveal anything important, not really. And how can we see ourselves, truly?

So I thought to start with: why name this the “Crooked Turret”?

When I created this blog, I was reflecting back to my past, remembering my fascination with the odd, the unexplainable, the mysterious. Somewhere along the way, real life had muted that sense of wonder. Was it time to recapture that?

A sliver of childhood memory intruded. Of a family living in an old shoe:

There was an old woman,
Who lived in a shoe;
She  had so many children,
She  didn’t know what to do.
She  gave them some broth,
Without any bread;
She  whipped them all soundly,
And sent them to bed.

Whimsical. Yet no-nonsense. I like that.

The image of the old beat-up shoe conjured up the picture of a crooked halo. A Clay Aiken fan would remember this: “Nobody is a saint, and if I had a halo it would be crooked.” (from a book by Clay Aiken, Learning to Sing). Thing is: I’ve always thought that imperfect can often be perfect. It’s wonderful, isn’t it? This contradiction that life offers us. Gives hope to those of us who aspire to just be.

The crooked halo in turn made me think of Clay joining the cast of Monty Python’s Spamalot, an absurd, yet clever musical spoofing the legend of King Arthur and the quest for the Holy Grail.

So there you have it, the story of how this little space in the virtual world came to be known as the “Crooked Turret”, my mist-shrouded tower in a kingdom much like Camelot.

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