In an earlier post (click here to view), I used the word dreich and now I offer you the meaning. It’s quite a perfect word and Scots language is full of similarly excellent words.
Blessed dervish! Surely canst go, girl.
That was me today, a blessed dervish. I wasn’t doing the hokey pokey but I was making one man’s 17th birthday feel special. All gifts were received well, good company enjoyed and food was tasty, even the obligatory frisbee-like birthday cake. The cake was not adorned with Thomas the Tank, Lego or even Warhammer as in years past, but instead Sigmund Freud stood amidst the icing, like a small phallus…very appropriate really.
Do you remember the Edinburgh book sculptor?, when she began leaving intricate book sculptures in literary spots around Edinburgh. Over a year later, we still know virtually nothing about the artist, except that she is a “she” and that she loves books. After hiding ten sculptures around Scotland’s capitol city, the artist disappeared again, protecting her anonymous status.The artist struck again last week during “Book Week Scotland,” when the whole country celebrated its strong literary heritage. The Book Sculptor also expanded her scope beyond Edinburgh by secretly depositing sculptures in literary hotspots around the country.Last Monday, a piece inspired by Alasdair Gray’s Lanark was discovered in the Glasgow School of Art. Read more about these intriguing sculptures below.
This story captivates me, more so because of the sculptor’s anonymity. It’s possible she’s remaining in the shadows of some dark library in order to stoke up curiosity and interest, to later reveal herself. No matter. Her work is exquisite and her panache is undeniable. The message on the tags within her pieces - “…for the Love of Books. X Every ending marks a new beginning.”
|—||Franz Kafka (via kafkaesque-world)|
From Rebecca, via email. My vocabulary has been repeatedly invaded by other sources, books and Britian being the largest and most colourful invaders. Sometimes I have no idea where the words I use come from.
(To view original post, click here.)
BEYOND THE SECRET DOOR
If you could look into the life of a writer at work, beyond the door to their studio or office and into their heads, what do think you would see? I don’t really know but I wonder. If you could look into my mind today, you’d see some very happy, fast racing thoughts; thoughts of success and pride, imagination running away with itself, of opportunity and hope of making connections. Today after a poor week I sat down and wrote, and wrote and wrote. My fingers on the keyboard had wings, the words flowed out to the noisy clack of my old keyboard and I smiled within. Allow me to share some numbers I’m fond of just now, number 3, for three chapters completed, and 10,300 for words written. That sounds like a lot but it’s only just over 1/8 of the total. Numbers don’t really matter but they’re my breadcrumbs on the trail, leading me home. Where is home? Home is when I can stop, the story well told and earn a little rest.
The words of an American treasure, Mary Oliver, Ohioan poet.
A question for all of us, one too easily forgotten. (From a dubious treasure, S. Marian, a Skye obsessed verbosity.)
The Permanence of Stone and of Words
"Aye, what’s been said can never be unsaid……"
(In response to the post, “Desperately Seeking Something,” on ‘A View From Outside the Box,’ url: adialogue)
~Comment from John, Isle of Skye - the photo is his and so is the stone. He is a most remarkable photographer with the soul of a poet, if you’re very lucky I’ll post some of his amazing photos in the future.
About words, they can’t be unsaid and even with thought and respect for their weight, still the message can get muddled. I’ve always wondered how a jury copes with that, something they hear but then is struck from the court record - you can’t unhear words.
"That day language conveyed a different meaning. It was more than the simple descriptions in an ad and soared beyond the eloquent words in our letters too. It connected us, opening up a deeper, more powerful communication that was wordless. As Herman Hesse said, Words do not express thoughts very well. They always become a little different immediately after are they expressed, a little distorted, a little foolish (from ‘Siddharth’).”
© S. Marian, May 1, 2012
Words have weight. They have depth and value and can drop like a stone or take us to places beyond our ken. How then to select just a few words to encapsulate a human being? Find out more and read, “Desperately Seeking Something,” to be found on “A View From Outside the Box,” url: adialogue