I am intrigued by how words mean when we imply that they do,
how they tend to break up across the rock of accountability
and in the soup kitchen of the unconscious.
Do you know what I mean?
I say the word peace,insignificant of itself,unassuming,just peace.Where do we get if peace is not peace?What goes through the turn style of that word?LINK
Hi Jon,Thanks for stopping by. I've appreciated your ongoing commitment to creative writing and reflection on your blogs. I think the turn style of words as empty vessels mixes up a bouillabaisse in the psychodynamic soup kitchen. Boil. Simmer. Serve. Or not."Where do we get?" I get pea(s)(ce) soup in the bouillabaisse. What do you get?
I like the word play... it always tends to lead to something more than an original intentionality...perhaps words have motility ...like bodies...where do I get... I get out and see what ten other people might say peace is ... or maybe just one... and I am always surprised how complicated things get then...
Thanks for pondering by, Harlequin. Shared understanding can be a complicating and surprising adventure at the best of times. (Do you know what I mean?Prodigal food for thought: An original intentionality leaves home to find a peace meal bouillabaise. Perhaps it too started as a soup in a pot with no name.
been thinking a bit more about simmering soup... perhaps words are not empty vessels... perhaps they are brimming with possibility???
I think there is a whole lot of possibility when words are not being baked into the everyday-maché -- simmering, brimming, boiling over into a surplus of meaning as lived. However, it takes some critical work to get beyond the already-chewed.