Lazy update.
Make a list of 100 things you like in no particular order. Avoid the obvious (significant other, cake...) and be completely honest with yourself. If you try to think of things that you are curious about and inspired by, you'll end up discovering a lot about yourself and in doing so developing a sort of bank of your interests and ideas.
1. Lee (meme-rules were made to be broken).
2. The smell of the seasons changing.
3. Words beginning with the letter 'v'.
4. Discovering the meanings and roots of words and names.
5. Using ink pens rather than biros.
6. Watching fish swim so that it induces an almost trancelike state.
7. Daydreaming on car journeys.
8. Someone playing an instrument with just me in the room
9. Corn on the cob with lots of butter and pepper.
10. Having my hair stroked or played with.
11. Wonky teeth.
12. Orgasms that are so good they induce tears, laughter or both.
13. Admiring my book collection, especially when shelved.
14. Matching colours.
15. Freewheeling down hills on a bicycle.
16. Feeding a horse grass from the flat of my palm.
17. Talking to animals.
18. The Highlands.
19. Realising that I see abstract concepts visually.
20. Having coffee and cigarettes and a chat.
21. Cheap Soho eateries.
22. The satisfaction of having written something good - that stays good.
23. Family secrets, stories and histories.
24. Old and/or interesting photos, and the anticipation and delight of new ones just developed.
25. Organising my Gmail inbox.
26. Receiving a real letter.
27. Beautiful angular handwriting.
28. Wanting to believe mythological creatures and tales are real.
29. Being totally absorbed in a book.
30. Rolling cigarettes.
31. Reading old diaries and journals.
32. Reading my horoscope even though I don't believe in astrology.
33. Awe-inspiring architecture.
34. Surreal humour.
35. Continental living.
35. Being good at board games, crosswords and quizzes (I'm not).
36. Theories and formula, especially when intertwined with a fictional narrative, such as in Arcadia by Tom Stoppard.
37. An old friendly pub with an oak interior and an open fire on a wet and windy day.
38. Laughing till it hurts.
39. Songs that move, words that inspire.
40. Tragedy (in art).
41. Noticing family resemblances.
42. Storms outside when I'm safe and warm inside.
43. Handel's Messiah at Christmas.
44. Hearing, seeing or going to lectures. All that information washing over me.
45. Thinking about all the species in the underwater depths that we haven't discovered yet.
46. Chaos theory.
47. Lee and I recounting our dreams to each other upon awakening.
48. Psychoanalysing people.
50. Dreamlike imagery juxtaposed with the real, for instance, dialogue (The Bridge, Lanark).
51. The excitement of a place or time that is Other, but just familiar enough to be imaginable.
52. Comedic sci-fi.
53. Romanticising dandies, aristos, aesthetes and Oxbridge.
54. That moment when something you've been struggling to understand suddenly becomes crystal clear such as a passage in philosophy or the conjugation of verbs in a foreign language.
55. The dichotomy between art and ethics.
56. Ballroom dancing.
57. Drop-waisted dresses.
58. Really really good television (Singing Detective, Twin Peaks, Six Feet Under, Brideshead Revisited).
59. Changing the words of songs.
60. Making my mum laugh.
61. Oxfam in Dalston, where good books and clothes are dirt cheap.
62. Making up pseudonyms (I have about twenty at the last count).
63. Coming up with names for my future offspring.
64. Reading about psychological abnormalities.
65. Finding out how accents and dialects developed.
66. Waking up and realising I have a day off.
67. Bumping into people I know in London. Coming from a small village, its occurrence here still surprises me, even after five years.
68. Moles and freckles.
69. Being lifted up/lifting others up. Literally.
70. Orchids, dahlias, lilies and irises.
71. Gesticulating wildly.
72. Names that are real words.
73. Wikipedia, my new favourite website and the way it manufactures a train of thought, and that you can edit it.
74. Making themed music compilations.
75. Maison Bertaux on Greek Street.
76. Mess cafe on Amherst Road.
77. (I copied this from Phil but it doesn't make it untrue) The taste of cinnamon.
78. The high incidence of red hair in the British Isles.
79. The illustrations of Arthur Rackham.
80. The colour green.
81. Welding words to make new ones (this practice has a term, but for reasons I shan't mention I'm not using it).
82. Naive yet wise philosophical children like Sophie (in Sophie's World), Alice in Wonderland and The Little Prince.
83. Tudor portraits, especially the eyes.
84. The sight and sound of cards being shuffled properly.
85. Playing pool.
86. Heloise and Abelard
87. Alliteration.
88. Renunciation.
89. Eating raw garlic.
90. My mum's cooking.
91. Saying 'och' and 'ach' at the beginning of sentences.
92. Dark-wooden furniture.
93. Mixed metaphors.
94. The feel of my hand under a cat's paw, or under the hand of someone I love.
95. The mystery of human attraction.
96. The delicious stinging moment upon sliding into a hot bath.
97. Planning new tattoos.
98. Walks in the woods.
99. Venice.
100. Dreaming of living by the sea one day with Lee.
That was fun. I could do a hundred more, easily.
At Edinburgh train station.
1. Lee (meme-rules were made to be broken).
2. The smell of the seasons changing.
3. Words beginning with the letter 'v'.
4. Discovering the meanings and roots of words and names.
5. Using ink pens rather than biros.
6. Watching fish swim so that it induces an almost trancelike state.
7. Daydreaming on car journeys.
8. Someone playing an instrument with just me in the room
9. Corn on the cob with lots of butter and pepper.
10. Having my hair stroked or played with.
11. Wonky teeth.
12. Orgasms that are so good they induce tears, laughter or both.
13. Admiring my book collection, especially when shelved.
14. Matching colours.
15. Freewheeling down hills on a bicycle.
16. Feeding a horse grass from the flat of my palm.
17. Talking to animals.
18. The Highlands.
19. Realising that I see abstract concepts visually.
20. Having coffee and cigarettes and a chat.
21. Cheap Soho eateries.
22. The satisfaction of having written something good - that stays good.
23. Family secrets, stories and histories.
24. Old and/or interesting photos, and the anticipation and delight of new ones just developed.
25. Organising my Gmail inbox.
26. Receiving a real letter.
27. Beautiful angular handwriting.
28. Wanting to believe mythological creatures and tales are real.
29. Being totally absorbed in a book.
30. Rolling cigarettes.
31. Reading old diaries and journals.
32. Reading my horoscope even though I don't believe in astrology.
33. Awe-inspiring architecture.
34. Surreal humour.
35. Continental living.
35. Being good at board games, crosswords and quizzes (I'm not).
36. Theories and formula, especially when intertwined with a fictional narrative, such as in Arcadia by Tom Stoppard.
37. An old friendly pub with an oak interior and an open fire on a wet and windy day.
38. Laughing till it hurts.
39. Songs that move, words that inspire.
40. Tragedy (in art).
41. Noticing family resemblances.
42. Storms outside when I'm safe and warm inside.
43. Handel's Messiah at Christmas.
44. Hearing, seeing or going to lectures. All that information washing over me.
45. Thinking about all the species in the underwater depths that we haven't discovered yet.
46. Chaos theory.
47. Lee and I recounting our dreams to each other upon awakening.
48. Psychoanalysing people.
50. Dreamlike imagery juxtaposed with the real, for instance, dialogue (The Bridge, Lanark).
51. The excitement of a place or time that is Other, but just familiar enough to be imaginable.
52. Comedic sci-fi.
53. Romanticising dandies, aristos, aesthetes and Oxbridge.
54. That moment when something you've been struggling to understand suddenly becomes crystal clear such as a passage in philosophy or the conjugation of verbs in a foreign language.
55. The dichotomy between art and ethics.
56. Ballroom dancing.
57. Drop-waisted dresses.
58. Really really good television (Singing Detective, Twin Peaks, Six Feet Under, Brideshead Revisited).
59. Changing the words of songs.
60. Making my mum laugh.
61. Oxfam in Dalston, where good books and clothes are dirt cheap.
62. Making up pseudonyms (I have about twenty at the last count).
63. Coming up with names for my future offspring.
64. Reading about psychological abnormalities.
65. Finding out how accents and dialects developed.
66. Waking up and realising I have a day off.
67. Bumping into people I know in London. Coming from a small village, its occurrence here still surprises me, even after five years.
68. Moles and freckles.
69. Being lifted up/lifting others up. Literally.
70. Orchids, dahlias, lilies and irises.
71. Gesticulating wildly.
72. Names that are real words.
73. Wikipedia, my new favourite website and the way it manufactures a train of thought, and that you can edit it.
74. Making themed music compilations.
75. Maison Bertaux on Greek Street.
76. Mess cafe on Amherst Road.
77. (I copied this from Phil but it doesn't make it untrue) The taste of cinnamon.
78. The high incidence of red hair in the British Isles.
79. The illustrations of Arthur Rackham.
80. The colour green.
81. Welding words to make new ones (this practice has a term, but for reasons I shan't mention I'm not using it).
82. Naive yet wise philosophical children like Sophie (in Sophie's World), Alice in Wonderland and The Little Prince.
83. Tudor portraits, especially the eyes.
84. The sight and sound of cards being shuffled properly.
85. Playing pool.
86. Heloise and Abelard
87. Alliteration.
88. Renunciation.
89. Eating raw garlic.
90. My mum's cooking.
91. Saying 'och' and 'ach' at the beginning of sentences.
92. Dark-wooden furniture.
93. Mixed metaphors.
94. The feel of my hand under a cat's paw, or under the hand of someone I love.
95. The mystery of human attraction.
96. The delicious stinging moment upon sliding into a hot bath.
97. Planning new tattoos.
98. Walks in the woods.
99. Venice.
100. Dreaming of living by the sea one day with Lee.
That was fun. I could do a hundred more, easily.
At Edinburgh train station.