Artifact of Self

The recording of thought. Why is it important? What’s the difference between thinking, writing and speaking.

Fluidity. The unwaiting of the pen to move the mind, the mouth. The ink becomes a flow. Thoughts are triggered in a different way.

Words and ideas alone can fly unhinged and be lost, or layered and fly out of control, like a mind that’s a hydrant that has been crashed into… and the dark blurry truck kept going.

The mouth slows down the mind, and the hand slows down both of them. The registration of reading the words presents progress and a fulfillment of the process.

A page is a container that the soul can pour itself into a concrete path. You can follow it backward and revisit those thoughts and moments again in a way that isn’t quite so hazed in the abstraction of memory.

The words will always have an evolved interpretation, even though they are your own, but the energy imprint still exists there, the history, the artifact, your own personal Cuneiform clay tablet. Your own secret language, the way you write, fragmented or complete. The vernacular is as you were in that moment. What a beautiful notion.

The gesture. A scratched moment in time, the two able to be heard in concert together, the sound of thought and it’s rhythm, words forming into clusters, the experience of thoughts connected like a stream that flows from a babbling brook over pebbles slowly, clearly, until it smashes into rocks, swirled and asymmetric.

Chaos roars as thoughts become fevered with inspiration. The pen scratch is unrelenting, harder. The table shakes. Breath is short until the thought ends over a waterfall, crashing into the depths of the plunge pool, and you surface to see yourself in the reflection.