Mimesis

If art is to imitate life, as the ancient Greeks first recognised as mimesis, where better to start than details? If we are only the sum of what we do everyday, why not keep a wee tally?

The way a new brand of toothpaste violates all the ancient codes established inside your sacred mouth.

The sound of rain on your window.

The way your towel’s never quite dry by the time you need to use it this time of year.

That new way your knees crack.

That good pain a couple days after using new muscles.

That bad pain while you’re using them.

The way the hairs on the back of your hands have started to curl up like your dad’s do.

The smell of your own farts.

The otherworldly comfort of flannelette sheets.

The way one Tim Tam is never enough.

The way one beer isn’t either.

The face you catch yourself pulling in the mirror when you touch your hair.

That involuntary furrow.

The things you mutter to yourself in an empty house.

That involuntary smile.

The shock when someone knocks on your front door, or talks to you in public.

And the connection you feel when it fades.

The barren pull of sleep – that one more snooze.

Just ten more minutes.

Just a few you promise.

Just one more.

– Daniel Head

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