It seems I'm having gravity issues in relation to this blog-thing, so to remedy that I declare this a tentative - if slightly botched - attempt at re-establishing some form of anchor.
I keep writing half-things, see, and then stopping; or not stopping but more skipping on to the next, so things get tangled up in each other and all the boundary lines blur into a tangled mass of web-like clutter. There's one about really old dog biscuits; another about a long-dead crow; and something about the awkwardness of buying shoes and why it's an activity I really don't like. And then there are more half-written things, like the one about those imagined conversations you have with people you only half know, and that time the bathroom was duck-egg blue for a couple of weeks and how it connects to my intense dislike of that unsettling shade of white known as Magnolia.
But, for now, all I have is this here half-formed attempt at anchoring, and all this talk of anchoring and lack of gravity makes me think of floating in space and throwing anchors out to the ground below, which in turn reminds me of that Calvino tale from The Complete Cosmicomics. It's the first tale in the book, called The Distance of the Moon. You should read it, and the rest of the book, too, if you feel like it.
Now here's a short Pixar animation for your entertainment. I saw it earlier this year - I think it was being shown with Brave - and immediately it made me think of that Calvino tale. A quick t'interweb search confirms my suspicions that it was indeed influenced by The Distance of the Moon:
While we're at it here's another animation, found while searching for the first one, because you can never have too many animations, particularly ones based on strange tales:
And that's all I've got right now, so I'll be pulling up the anchor again and going for another wee space-swim (really I'm just off to draw a raven-crow bird-thing).