I always used to doodle in my school books. More often than not they were tiny sketches in the margin where I drew World War II fighters or bombers, naval destroyers or army tanks and armoured cars. Or futuristic supercars or fighter jets. Or I might do sketch plans of my dream house, or a map of a paradise island. I didn't draw people, flowers or animals. But I might have drawn roller coasters.
I was first hooked when my father took my younger brother and I to Battersea funfair. That might have been almost fifty years ago. And then in 1979 I landed in Long Beach on a banana ship and spent a night enjoying the white knuckle thrills at Knott's Berry Farm. The memories never left me and it was my joy to take my two sons back there, and to Six Flags Magic Mountain in 1997 on an amazing road trip around the South West of the USA. And it was so good I took the whole family back there year after year.
But I always loved the thrill of rollercoasters. I would love to design one. Starting with a pencil sketch on an empty sheet of white paper. Light touches with the point at first, shapely curves and dips. A high, over the top, dashing down to a low. The mind starts to imagine, the thrill, the emotion, the quickening heartbeat, the shortening breath. Then firmer strokes, the hand works harder, curving over those smooth shapely esses. The eyes close, imagining, nostrils flaring to take in the air: no, the scent of danger. This 'thing', this ride, she's dangerous, a heady addiction. Thrilling. Sexy in a strange sort of way. She's the ride of a lifetime, this rollercoaster with her ups and downs, twists and turns.
But you'll never want to get off. So when the ride comes to an end there is a certain finality and sense of sorrow. Like death. The fun is over perhaps for a lifetime, unless of course you want to go to the back of the queue and wait for your chance again, one day.
See the people on top?
BTW the sky wasn't grey enough for my liking so I have added a little 'shape' to it. The rollercoaster is real. I was on it.
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