Make a work out of continuously saying, in a column or list, one sentence or line, over & over in different ways, until you get it “right” (Bernadette Mayer, Please Add This To The List).
version one:A gray day. Gloomy. Days like today make it difficult for me to see. It’s not really dark outside, just overcast, but because of my macular dystrophy, overcast feels a lot darker. And it makes everything look fuzzy, like I’m seeing it through a slightly dirty piece of plastic or running in my own bubble.
version two:An overcast day. Not dark, but gray and because I have macular dystrophy, gray seems a lot darker. It makes everything look fuzzy, like I’m seeing it through a slightly dirty piece of plastic. I feel like I’m running in my own bubble.
version three:An overcast day. Not dark, but gray. With my macular dystrophy, gray seems a lot darker. Makes everything look fuzzy, like I’m seeing it through a slightly opaque piece of plastic. I feel disconnceted from the path and other runners, like I’m running in my own bubble.
version four:A gray day. Not dark, just gray. But with my macular dystrophy, gray is dark. Everything looks fuzzy, not quite formed and not quite there, as if I’m looking through a slightly opaque piece of plastic. I feel separated from the path and other runners, like I’m running in my own bubble.
version five:A gray day. With my macular dystrophy, gray days make it difficult to see. Everything looks fuzzy, not quite formed and not quite there. And everything in my central vision—the trees, the path, the people running towards me—don’t quite seem real or part of my world. It’s as if I’m looking at them through a slightly opaque piece of plastic, like I’m running in a bubble.
version six:A gray day. WIth my macular dystrophy, gray days make it difficult to see. It all looks fuzzy, not quite formed and not quite there. The things that first appear in my central vision—the trees up ahead, the path, the people running towards me—don’t quite seem real or part of my world. It’s as if I’m looking at them through plastic, like I’m running in a bubble.
version seven:A gray day. With my macular dystrophy, gray days make everything look fuzzy, not quite formed and not quite there. Objects that first appear in my central vision—the trees, the path, the people running towards me—don’t seem real or part of my world. It’s as if I’m looking at them through a slightly opaque piece of plastic, like I’m running in a bubble.
version eight:
A gray day makes everything look fuzzy
not quite formed
not quite there.
The trees, the path, the people running towards me
aren’t real
aren’t really there,
in my world
where I’m running in a bubble,
watching through slightly opaque plastic.