When the bull says no it means...

Advice to writers:

Everyone has a different metaphor to describe the writing process. And in the final product, if such a thing exists, traces of the process are always left over. Maybe for Conrad it was like trying to see in a dark room that gets darker at a proportional rate to which one's eyes adjust.

I usually feel like I'm trying to wrastle an angry bull. While wearing a superman costume and trying to look graceful. Better, I'm in a coliseum, surrounded by a herd of angry bulls. I have to choose my bull, but, as bulls can be deceiving, I mistake the least angry one for the angriest. A coffee and cream colored bull, lowering his horns and staring at me through one slitted eye. That's the one. There I go.

Most of the action, unfortunately for the viewer, is hidden by a dust cloud. The details are blurred; a toss, a rag-doll triple gainer, a face plant. Needless to say, our would-be hero is left face down in the dirt with his costume torn in an embarrassing spot, wondering what he is doing and hoping no one is watching. The bull stands off to the side, huffing a bit, but not very nonplussed.

Still, he gets up, dusts himself off, grins sheepishly at the crowd, waving his hands over his head for applause. None forthcoming. Oh well, its just him and the bull. Think like a surfer, he says to himself. Just be here now. Don't make it so hard on yourself. Come on, sprezzatura. It's just you and the board and the wave, man, and the wave, and the board, and the you, and the bull...

Oof. Well, maybe its the wrong bull. Don't get discouraged - there are many bulls in the... nevermind.

Anyway, I'm back.