Theme Switch

I have come to terms with the fact that I won’t be posting very many images here. While I do draw in my spare time, there is a time and place for everything.

This is a place for words. Words that admittedly still do not come easily to me. They are elusive little things, with a clumsy power that I cannot understand. English class has helped, but not quite enough.

It would be so much easier if I could write in pictures. Visuals are far easier; I do not think in words, but in sights and occasionally sounds. Whenever I need to communicate, I translate all of those images into words, to be spoken or written down. Those words often lose a great deal of the feeling the raw pictures had. Yet, those words are at the same time necessary.

I have to think in art, but art is not easily understood. There is no universal language of pictures; a painting evokes a wide array of thoughts and feelings, even if the subject is a relatively mundane one. A painting of the mind is more than likely going to be incomprehensible to everyone but the person painting it.

We cannot truly understand another’s mind, so we use words as a compromise. They are frustrating things, those words. They always slip from my grasp, the ones that truly portray my thoughts. The ones that remain are the only ones I know how to use.

I have no idea what I am doing. I have no idea what I am doing wrong. The right words simply do not come.

Despite my frustration with words, I love the letters. They are beautiful, when you lay them out individually. One at a time, those letters are meaningless, images that combine curves and lines in the strangest ways. String them together, and they form the words that I seek to understand. The pictures of the letters are still there, just muted. I cannot see those pictures so clearly when the letters are linked together into these words.

That is why I am still here writing, even though it has already been half a year. I am not yet satisfied with how my voice flows in text. I still do not understand myself as well as I would like.

In my mind, there is a clear image of letters falling off a cliff. That is what happens when I run out of words. They are all so

beautiful.

 

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