I create letters, blends, sounds, spaces, waves… I’ve watched the play from childhood. I remember how the play came, dreamlike, automatic… watched now from a distance I see the faint stirring of purpose in it. There was a hidden singing not mentioned in the grammar books. The unfolding syntax still looks magical as if by angelic help. But now we come to divinity manifest in consciousness, and the meaning of it.
Before words, worlds, kingdoms, I am amazed. Words spring spontaneously into sound, each as mysterious as my forgotten first word. I cannot find the full depth of their silent origin anymore than I can find the full depth of space. I know the subatomic structures of the brain do not yield the secret of words; their shapes and sounds are more spacious and multidimensional. I follow the sounds, and am alive in the creation and in the origin. I create with words and am created by them. I feel their musical patterns move from spherical to complex geometries, becoming vital spinning stars, life forms, the shapes of thoughts in space. I try to mirror the world of original patterns; it is impossible art, but full of joy.