Nothing I have to say today is more important or exciting than this:
Art is the need to reach out and touch the wordlessness and then to share it. — Nicola Griffith, talking about something wonderful
An artist goes the wordlessness within her and brings back whatever she finds, in whatever form is hers. Words, music, movie, paint, sculpture, dance… We translate the wordlessness as best we can and give it away.
But what happens when someone takes that art and dives with it into their own wordless place? What happens when people respond to art by making art of their own, and then give it back?
Something wonderful. A great mad gift. Thank you, Karina.
It’s only fair that I return at least some of everything you and Nicola have given me through your stories and your conversations and the example of lives well lived and loved.
I declare myself an absolutely willing and helplessly happy junkie for this feedback of wordlessness we got going.
Yo soy también una yonqui, estoy adicta lo mismo al wordlessness…
We are all addicts here, returning again and again to the well, because there is so much love and generosity and willingness and expansiveness and understanding. I would give anything/everything for a simple moment of wordless understanding.
Jan, one of the things I really enjoy about my little corner of the internet here is the chance to dive into the wordless places and try to find words for them. It means a lot to me to know that others feel the same draw to these places in ourselves and each other.
The internet is an amazing space. I spent so many years in my youth yearning for a place where I felt permission to say whatever I had to say, no matter how “millennial“… And here I am, able to say what I wish and knowing that there is enough space for it — I’m not “taking up” anyone else’s space, I’m not shouting over them, I’m not fighting to be heard. I am just throwing it out there, but it’s not like when I was a kid and would talk to myself as I rode my bike through the back alleys of Tampa. Now it’s like casting small shiny things out in the knowledge that sometimes people will wander by and pick some of them up. And maybe keep some of them because they like how the little things shine. It’s a nice feeling.