When I was still an apprentice of literary knowledge, I would often times sit near a window seeing the sky. It's not much of a help to my study. Actually, it is somehow detrimental to me since I would often times wander off in thought gazing to the eternal blue, wasting my precious time for study.
It's funny at times when my mentor finds me inattentive of the discussion, and I would most of the time answer his/her questions incorrectly. It's a wonder that I was never asked what I was looking at, or perchance I was but I couldn't remember. All I know, is that I never told anyone, except for my lil' sis, of what I was looking at. To be fair though, no one, in my class, was much interested of what I was looking at or I was not that interesting at all. I'm pertaining towards the latter since I'm not much interested at myself as well, I think so?
Anyway, what exactly am I wandering off to? Most definite answer is I'm daydreaming. I'm seeing myself with wings flying from one rooftop to another. At times, I turn to a bird migrating with the season flyers off to elsewhere. Well, as you can see, I'm fascinated with the idea of flight and on the other hand, I'm afraid of heights. It's funny how these two polar opposites coincide. Well, I'm not one born with wings, anyway, so that's the root of my fear. Perhaps though every fascination stem from fear. Perhaps I'm wrong.
After my reverie of flying, after traversing each of the rooftops and building thru my mind's eye, I will just get back to the contemporary. As if nothing happened, my professor, talking with either eagerness or dejection and us the apprentices with glee or perhaps just a facade willfully listens and notes to what our mentor is discussing.
Well, that is until I find my eyes, again, looking outside and my hands are noting. It's a simulated lie, perhaps. Of me half listening or not at all and my hands are moving, with the pen of course, across my notes. Perhaps this is the reason why I was ignored much by our professors, I was lying, without me noticing.
Going back to my question, what exactly I was wandering off to? Beside the fascination of flight, there are the clouds. A friend once told me that clouds have very short lifespan, not that they are alive but that they quickly dissipate. Fleeting, ephemeral, temporary, transitory, short-lived... and just add the word "dream" next to it and you'll have a nice word play, I guess?
Anyway, that's just the history of it... what is cloud tracing, gain? Short answer is, it's a sketch of the cloud patterns I see in the sky then I give life into it. That's it. That's dumb. Not exactly though since the clouds fades, I have to move my hand a bit faster, of course, when an artist sketches a pattern, he has to focus his eye into it. And the life given into it is when I give it a different identity other than just a sketched pattern of a cloud. You might just call it looking at clouds and making patterns out of them, which is it, actually.
Well, I don't know. I guess, I just sugar coated it, but either way, given the instances I always do this. It is like meditating during times meditation mustn't be done. Again, sugar coated, wasting of time. But whatever, I felt both free and at own, even though I'm surrounded by people. It felt like the time is own my own. Irregardless of what is around me. Perhaps, that's a reason why my marks and scores weren't that up to par with my class.
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I just checked, funny is I don't know of these back then when I'm always doing this. And believe me, I've coined this term, Cloud Tracing, on my own. Well, perhaps just coincidence.
http://uncyclopedia.wikia.com/wiki/Cloud_gazing
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