Perhaps a shower cap would keep the water off my head and prevent the germination of the seeds that grow within…
“Do good, honest work.” (quote by S.V.E. sometime recently)
And that is perhaps the main reason for taking Talespinning a bit away from the general public view. I may not do good work, but it most assuredly is done with as much honesty as I know how to deliver. The ongoing bout of poetics that I have been sputtering prolifically lately was more revealing than I should have liked, and poetry, if misunderstood while still held dear to its author, is a high form of frustration. I am not good enough to either write clearly enough, or feel magnanimous about its interpretation to hand it over without a doubting sense of bewilderment and longing.
I am beginning to see an organizational orbiting drawn by a gravitational pull that seems to mark the body “Words” as its sun. This galaxy that is forming is accelerating rapidly as it ages, formed in birth, perhaps, but spinning seems to feed its growth, gathering to it bits of flotsam to retain a state of flux. Did I tell you that I once was tempted to cut loose a friendship simply for the fact that she had written my name inside a book that I once loaned her? Obsessive respect and out of line, I’m sure, but then, I could never own the words within it, so why a name to brand it?
This fascination with words is coming from all directions now, the seeking of a higher education, the interest in philosophy (and good Lord, politics!), the reading, reading, reading, and the resulting writing; a word as seen in use and meaning, its history, purpose, necessity and intent, and its power to form a separate entity of its own control–pretty scary stuff.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology