Monday, 8 November 2010

What's the shape of an unwritten word?

It’s not that I haven’t any material. 
This is not another tedious case of writer’s block or any other such deceit. 

Today I could write all manner of shite on a myriad of topics that might entertain, bemuse, annoy or even, possibly, inform or illuminate. 

Aaahze got tings to make yez laaarf and tings to make yez crahhhh.
Yet for some reason at present neither fully identified nor understood, I don’t want to. 

Save for the 4 years I lived in Amercia, I have published something every single week, from 1992 onwards. Sometimes I’ve written 3 in a week and sometimes barely one satisfactory word, but not right now.

Big whoops for the evidence that this is here. These words, stating that I’m not going to publish anything this week.

Words that by the intention of their own meaning do not exist.
Ooer missis. Getting a bit Zen.

There are no doubt souls out there who might believe that if a word is unread, it does not exist.

But what about a word that is unwritten?
Calling the Guru! Calling the Guru! Are you out there, my old friend? 


Paz said...

If a word is written in the woods and no one reads it..........

Charlie Adley said...

... was your card the 4 of Spades or a treacle tart?

The Guru said...

Does the unwritten word exist for who? Does anything exists beyond the self?
Perhaps a word, written or unwritten, is an extension of thought which emanates from the mind, the self. So, an unwritten word would be the manifestation of a thought waiting to be born in ink or pixels.
Does a word, any word actually exists anyway, written or unwritten; read or unread?
Perhaps each word that is uttered or inscribed takes on an infinity of meanings and existences that reflect the myriad of minds that witness it.

Charlie Adley said...

First, sorry if my remark seemed in any way impolite or aggressive , Paz. I was just trying to illustrate the absurdity of my own ponderings.

As for you, Guru, there is much truth in what you say, as always. But given that anything and everything is viewed, experienced or consumed subjectively, is it not a truism to say that we all perceive every word differently?

A writer knows that, yet still for some reason writes anyway, believing that his meaning will be understood.

Is that the power of art? To create with sufficient passion, intent and skill so that meaning can survive infinite interpretations intact?

Paz said...

no offense taken, on the words thing, I agree with your last comment.

The Guru said...

Is it a truism or the truth? I certainly don't know.

I like your comment about the power of art, and yes you are probably right. I feel one of the beauties of art is that it offers itself up to interpretation and is strengthened by it rather than diminished.

It is the brave artist who can let his visions take flight and be exposed to a world of interpretations and to be able to honour those interpretations whilst holding his own intact within his heart.

Charlie Adley said...

Indeed mate, good call, I probably said 'truism' but meant 'truth', thereby breaking one of my cardinal writing rules - never use a big word when a small one will suffice (or 'do'! - arf!).

Don't know about artists, but sometimes what you describe as the the vision is not intact within me until it is been transposed into fiction. The answer does lie in the process, sometimes.