I was about to give a talk to my colleagues. It was to be held out in an open field. I was unprepared. I stood near my car with its bonnet open and started to prepare from the few notes I had taken on an article by a writer whose name was Engel. The book dealt with the way we attach and grow.
I had read Engel’s book some time ago and had taken copious notes but I had not pulled it together. I had thought I might have more time to do this but then realised too late that my talk was about to begin.
The convenor clapped his hands for silence and was ready to introduce me. I would need to bluff my way through, I thought. I could ask the audience to join in and help.
Engel’s book included images from a series of films and photographs that suggest a link between what is real and unreal. The way toys can have personalities. A doll, for instance, a Mirka Mora image can have a face full of expression, even with buttons for eyes.
Still I could not remember the names of the films to which Engel refers or events in much detail. I had not had enough time.
I woke as I flicked through the book still trying to prepare myself as the convenor waffled on about trivia. I wished I could go elsewhere and pluck out some meaningful quotes to make sense of the book. But it was too late.