I wish it was as easy to paint with words as it is with a brush daubed in color. Just dip your bristles in the paint and slide it across the canvas and creation begins. A sweep of the hand and movement appears; add another color and the tempo rises – or falls. It doesn’t require the precision of words. Words are not just soft or sharp, quiet or loud; they are filled with internal functions called ‘meaning’ that cannot be ignored. You can’t choose your words based solely on how they roll off your tongue or the number of syllables or the letters that are included in their makeup.
Paint is easy – red, yellow and blue. Add some white to lighten, black to darken. Add texture or keep the finish smooth. Words get tangled so easily. Sounds trip over each other. Meanings get misconstrued. If you should misplace a letter or two, or worse yet, a whole word, the entire picture is ruined. It’s like the unintentional squeak of a clarinet in the midst of a finely orchestrated piece; it becomes a distraction that interrupts the flow.
(sigh) I’m tired. Forgive me for not finishing this painting properly. Perhaps I’ll return to it another day. But probably not.