I
can never write short messages. Shortish, but hardly ever a line or
two. How people do is a puzzle, because I see white space and want to
fill it. And a line, even if that's all that's necessary, doesn't
seem to cut it; there's too much space aching to be filled with
witty, unnecessary remarks or a fuller description.
What's
ironic is that I feel that need less in conversation – do people
still make that these days or have we all turned monosyllabic?-
since there, I rarely feel that same urge; the silence stands for
itself, sometimes awkwardly but more often comfortably, or in a
that's my cue to leave or resume the task I was doing before, even
side by side a fellow worker.
Sometimes
there just are no words. So why doesn't that occur when I'm talking
to a page to myself, mostly, or talking to someone – a friend or
relative - via a page, a page of type for one pair of eyes, or for
countless pairs, with no idea of their shape or colour? With the
latter, I just hit 'publish' and barely give a thought as to who its
readers might be. And what they might look like, facially.
The
urge also don't occur with walls. Painted walls. And decorations for,
I mean. As there, I'm happy to let them breathe i.e. to have some
almond-white space around the framed hangings. To let them make their
own statement and not be too crowded, get lost in a forest of other
images, or have to get up close-to to really see. I prefer standing
back, appreciating them and getting their full measure from afar, by
standing in an open doorway or learning casually against a door
frame. And to do that they, the images themselves, have to be able to
command the space they're hanging against, as well as that of the
room. It's hard to get right, and I'm not sure I do. I don't think,
for instance, it would pass a critical gaze, like that of museum
curator or art critic, without some slight being made, an adjustment,
or comment as to how to improve its position in terms of light and
framing.
Though
we do that, all of us, with words too. Pass judgement. On those used
or how something has been said. Or note a grammatical error, to
ourselves or even, if we're that way inclined, bring it to the
attention of others.
Lately
even I've been looser, grammatically speaking; been so in the flow,
with some articles, I haven't wish to interrupt the style and let
rules take precedence. Because sometimes the structure of a sentence,
though not correct, to the ear sounds better. I occasionally talk
what I'm typing, as I type, aloud. It's more poetical than prose yet
still prose. Isn't that what prose is, essentially?
I
don't know, is the honest answer.
Some
prose is very correct; some is very lax. And that, too, annoys me. I
like, for instance, the proper use of apostrophes and and full-stops
outside brackets, and speech marks where they're used to be double
rather than single, which are quotation marks, but which are more
often used now; wrongly, in my opinion.
So,
against this, this modern changing of some rules, I've found, as
others no doubt have done before, it pays, in terms of creativity, to
be a little slack. Do away with speech marks altogether! Structure
sentences differently, based on sound and rhythm, rather than what's
correct.
Yes,
I've been pulled up on it. But it's the sound, the sound, I say. It
doesn't sound right, the right way. Very few, however, particularly
those schooled at a earlier time, understand what I'm on about; and
those schooled after me, well, I haven't a clue what they're on or on
about.
This
relaxedness, however, doesn't come from them, or from any particular
generation, but from reading, and allowing myself to enter my own
space of what feels good, what feels right creatively speaking, where
I might default to the thesaurus on the odd occasion, as well as
incorporate a phrase or style I've seen elsewhere. Why this laid-back
approach then doesn't transfer to the area I plan to fill I cannot
say. I know less is more, yet the words continue to trip and spill
across the page.
Am
I in need of an editor?
Picture credit: Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell in His Girl Friday
All posts published this year were penned during the last.
