What is midge?
What position does midge hold in the Scottish cultural imaginary?
On a scale of mosquito to horsefly, where does the midge bite fall? How about rubber band to rattlesnake?
How long could a speech I gave about everything remembered about bugs and insects from biology class last?
Does the midge make it the same distance over a Loch as it does a bog?
What are the odds I saw that particular midge before on the way in?
How might midges dispose of their wee midgie wastebuckets?
Who benefits from the power we give the midge?
Are you my mother?
These, a few of my questions on a recent walk in the Scottish Highlands while swatting away the darling savages.
Captain Obvious says: Curiosity is a generous antidote to discomfort. Looking for what makes things tick, first principles, a juicy 'why' - all classically powerful and often productive (even socially valued) distractions.
You've definitely felt the alchemy yourself. Whether an answer is non-fictional or fantastical, the hunt can turn most any low stakes annoyance into a weirdly addictive nut to crack, inevitably with unexpected fruits to savor.
Relentless digging powers most everything in my life (save my relationship, for everyone's sanity).
A few factoids:
People have seen my copy on billboards down San Francisco's Van Ness Avenue. The only poem I've ever published is tattooed on a stranger's arm in southern Germany (the power of IG!). Nicolas Sarkozi once overheard me giving a user interview. I did exchange pickling recipes with the designer of Apple's first airpods. My Berlin story? The last apartment I sublet was from the German PM's nephew.
In this establishment the good natured chaos and fun are real (take that, AI). And it could continue while we flex a little creative muscle together.
I'm Reka, nice to meet you. What say?