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19 April 2006

A cold and rainy night

I was mulling over a post in my head late this afternoon whilst quilting. Can you imagine? I just used the words "whilst quilting" in a statement and, sadly, it was exactly what I was doing. Whilstly quilting. Kind of makes me giggle. Anyways, back to the chore at hand. I was trying to come up with what it was that I really wanted to say - a way to make the visceral, tangible. How do I make something that is instinctive and known to me in such a way as only known things are known... into something that the rest of the world, or a few select others, can touch and taste, in its exact texture as it is seen by me? And that, my friends, is not an easy undertaking.

So here I sit, listening to Ray Charles sing Georgia on my mind and mulling over the events of a fortnight gone by. Do you ever sit still and have so many things swirl by your frontal lobe, and you see them and you understand them and they make perfect sense? But when you go to write them down, they're gone? Their memory is prominent and their meaning still significant, but the clarity that you just saw disappeared the moment that you wanted to pass that clarity on?

That's how I feel. I feel like I'm sitting under a tree on a warm sunny day in a big field. I can close my eyes and remember all those sights and sounds that were heard just before I came to sit here, but I can't pass them on to you. It's not that the moment was lost, it's just that there are no words to explain it to you so that you see it in the way that I really want you to. I want you to see exactly what I'm seeing and nothing less. It's like trying to describe the smell after a rainstorm without saying that it smells like after a rainstorm.

So I remain silent. And herein lies my dilemma. Sometimes the answers that are wanted are not so easily found and less simply put into words.

"Ain't about the singer... it's the song..."
Jann Arden


Jen said...

I definitely know what you're talking about. Many times I'll reread a post and go... I didn't describe that well at all. The readers can't really GET what I was feeling!

You're not alone, sister.

Potor said...

The limitation of language.

Broken Angel said...

Actually, you managed to perfectly describe thay which you thought you could not. I know exactly what you mean - the worse thing is that sometimes you really want to describe an experience, but it seems so daunting you just don't bother. You made me realize that sometimes less can be more, and sometimes more effective as well. ;) A