Brewing a Caleidoscope

As of late, my mind has been resembling a whirling flurry of fragmented ideas, thoughts, memories and impressions. Did you ever own a caleidoscope? If you have, then maybe yours was like mine, filled with tiny bits and pieces, some glittery, some less so, in various shapes, sizes and colours.

When it is held up to the eye, and slowly turned, the bits and pieces fall into place, making symmetrical and pretty patterns because of their reflection being shown in the tiny mirror that is inside the caleidoscope.
Without the mirror, and when the tube is shaken, everything inside just rattles about, making no sense.

Sometimes I liken the process from the first sparks of an idea to the point where I act on that idea (or, depending on what the idea is, write about it or put it in form of a photograph) to brewing.
Just like when ingredients are added to a drink that needs brewing before it develops its full taste and other properties, some ideas need time to ripen. And occasionally, the brewing process is helped by gentle stirring, or altering the temperature, or opening and closing the lid.

Both images convey, I think, quite clearly what I mean.

What, though, is the mirror inside the caleidoscope?
Do I have a mechanism or a tool at hand (so to speak) which allows me to create patterns that make sense, not only to myself, but possibly also to others?

One of those tools is certainly writing.
Once I finally DO put pen to paper (or, rather, my fingers to the keyboard) and start on a certain subject, the bits and pieces begin to fall into place.
An ornamental or - less frequently - functional pattern emerges.

The ingredients of the brew mix and blend. Delicious scent rises from its depths. The surface looks smooth and sweet.

Fancy a sip?