rambling
Are thoughts,
emotions, feelings real? Are they meaningful? Meaningless? Are we just trying to find words
for what cannot be expressed?
Is the deep rooted
longing for ‘communication’, for communion, (one of) the reason we made up
words, to be able to come as close as possible to the person next to us, when
sex is not an option, where physical
contact is not permitted. When trying to offer comfort a thousand words offer
nothing, whereas one hug conveys the message in an instant.
Words aren’t
real, they are not what they represent, always a pale construct of an object in
the physical world; a drawing of a table is not a table. The symbol is not the
object. Only a table is a table, an apple an apple, an atom an atom.
Understanding the
world around me is no easy feat. My imagination and intelligence are limited. With
every single thing I have come to understand,
I understand even less of all that is. I know nothing, I could see everything
if my eyes were truly open.
All that is, is
in me and I am nothing really
from dye bowl in top picture to the results; the plant stencil pattern is another flour-resist experiment; the dye is the one used several times before, we've just had our two days-of-summer (I hope not!) with extreme temperatures, so the dying was fast and intense: the cloth went in tuesday evening and came out his thursday morning; the dye itself is very smelly!
The fabric wrapped around the black beans is still soaking. I've used the remaining dye plus the dregs found in a bucket (walnut and leaves?) for another wicking experiment: a WhiteJacket has gone in! more pics later
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Comments
I love books, I love reading, writing, I can hardly imagine a life without words;
my attempts at capturing the essence of things is exactly that: an attempt, the experience of a walk with the dog is what it is, trying to describe that is doomed to fail; and yet that doesn't stop us from trying and I'm not saying we should stop trying....I look up and see Barry Lopez' quote stuck on my bookcase:' we keep each other alive with our stories. We need to share them, as much as we need to share food....'
we keep on plodding;-)
Something I read recently pertains, here, too -- which was Austin Kleon's idea that it is good to share online -- not so much to share WHAT we think or know, but rather to DISCOVER what we think or know... I realize this idea speaks only to the part of your musing that has to do with blogging and online communications - but it is a liberating idea to me, and hope it is to you, too.
and of course to me the fabric is real, more real than the words; in all we do, make, sing, write, blog, whatever is the everlasting, overwhelming, primal desire to Share, share what it is we have no words for
talking/writing is very often not about what is said out loud, but what remains unspoken....
I'm not trying to be mysterious or anything, just attempting to give each and every'thing' it's true name