When I write I often find myself at night, deep in a forest. I hold a lantern and I slowly start exploring the surroundings. May take a while but then I start discovering what's there. One image after another, they appear before me. That's when the "labels" pop up. The words that describe a space and time at each clearing in the forest.
This comment is about me, not about you. All comments and reactions are about the other person, not about you. I suppose if all the comments and responses were the same then you might legitimately ask yourself if you are wrong but it also might mean that you are in the wrong place, the wrong group, the wrong audience.
Words. Powerful, sacred, fungible, deadly, healing, mysterious. As a sharp little just-teen, I described the process of thought to some folks as we waited outside the dining hall for supper. "Something floats up out of the depths. an image perhaps, I try various words, like keys, into the lock. They stick for a while. The thought stays for a while. Then it dissolves slowly back into nothingness." Like the stuff in a lava lamp. Even fierce definitions grow vague with enough time. Handy things, words. I wonder how you say that in ancient Assyrian?
When I write I often find myself at night, deep in a forest. I hold a lantern and I slowly start exploring the surroundings. May take a while but then I start discovering what's there. One image after another, they appear before me. That's when the "labels" pop up. The words that describe a space and time at each clearing in the forest.
Beautifully said…I mean written. Cheers, D.C.
This comment is about me, not about you. All comments and reactions are about the other person, not about you. I suppose if all the comments and responses were the same then you might legitimately ask yourself if you are wrong but it also might mean that you are in the wrong place, the wrong group, the wrong audience.
Oh, I think I get where you're coming from, Ray. Yesterday was one of those days...I needed to just be quiet. Cheers. :-)
Words. Powerful, sacred, fungible, deadly, healing, mysterious. As a sharp little just-teen, I described the process of thought to some folks as we waited outside the dining hall for supper. "Something floats up out of the depths. an image perhaps, I try various words, like keys, into the lock. They stick for a while. The thought stays for a while. Then it dissolves slowly back into nothingness." Like the stuff in a lava lamp. Even fierce definitions grow vague with enough time. Handy things, words. I wonder how you say that in ancient Assyrian?
Beautiful, Clarke. I love the lava lamp analogy/imagery. 🌈✌️