this photograph speaks. this is exactly what happened when i saw it. truly. and so your title is ironic. i heard this photograph. it murmurs, consults with itself about existence. the tree in the foreground, for me, is silent. the line of trees in the background is a field of energy. if only i knew this language. if only i knew how to translate. and so perhaps here is where without words exist, for to translate is beyond language.
erin: you write to translate is beyond language and something opens in the world. yes, this is true!! on the one hand, we are at the intersection of many languages -- words, images, snow, etc. -- and all we do or say is some kind of translation. on the other hand, isn't it impossible to translate one representation of what can't be said into an equivalent representation of what can't be said??? it is as if the different languages are so many roads across the desert meeting at an empty square in a abandoned town, and the emptiness must always be ventured in order to get from one place to another ....
unlocked:words are scarce / and meaning more so / in the face of so much
the so much of the world will always defeat language ... every tree is unique, glances at us from its uniqueness, and we have only the pathetic word tree ... or pine, oak, birch,which isn't much better ... and yet ... and yet ... i believe it is this poverty and weakness of language that saves us, that makes it possible for us to inhabit it together, rather than each alone, that makes imagination and poetry possible ... if we had a word for each specific tree, only that, without the frustratingly vague and general concept, could we ever say yggdrasil?
nein, es braucht keinen Titel, wirklich nicht. Dieses Bild, wie so oft bei deinen Bilder, spricht aus sich selbst, regt die Worte im Kopf und Herzen des Betrachters an. also ist der Titel eigentlich Provokation, denn es ist genau das Gegenteil, das auf den ersten Bilck so ruhige, flüstert, tuschelt und erzählt eine ganz Mengen ...
ich weiß nicht, ob es ein Gedicht wird, ich muss noch ein wenig darauf schauen.
Isabella: Irgendwie möchte ich eine Stille, die alles sagt zu finden. Was ich sage ist eine Übersetzung von einigen kleinen Stück von diesem Schweigen.
sometimes my playful nature makes me feel the urge to argue for the opposite (though maybe it is more than playfulness, maybe this is just the living paradox we cannot escape :-)
yes)))))))
ReplyDeletebut!
this photograph speaks. this is exactly what happened when i saw it. truly. and so your title is ironic. i heard this photograph. it murmurs, consults with itself about existence. the tree in the foreground, for me, is silent. the line of trees in the background is a field of energy. if only i knew this language. if only i knew how to translate. and so perhaps here is where without words exist, for to translate is beyond language.
xo
erin
erin: you write to translate is beyond language and something opens in the world. yes, this is true!! on the one hand, we are at the intersection of many languages -- words, images, snow, etc. -- and all we do or say is some kind of translation. on the other hand, isn't it impossible to translate one representation of what can't be said into an equivalent representation of what can't be said??? it is as if the different languages are so many roads across the desert meeting at an empty square in a abandoned town, and the emptiness must always be ventured in order to get from one place to another ....
Delete.
Delete that last one....Ugh. 6 lines. Shouldn't be so difficult, and yet...
ReplyDeleteas so often I am
my hands scritching at the pen
my lips twitching at the mouth
but words are scarce
and meaning more so
in the face of so much
unlocked: words are scarce / and meaning more so / in the face of so much
Deletethe so much of the world will always defeat language ... every tree is unique, glances at us from its uniqueness, and we have only the pathetic word tree ... or pine, oak, birch,which isn't much better ... and yet ... and yet ... i believe it is this poverty and weakness of language that saves us, that makes it possible for us to inhabit it together, rather than each alone, that makes imagination and poetry possible ... if we had a word for each specific tree, only that, without the frustratingly vague and general concept, could we ever say yggdrasil?
.
Yes. As you say it. Yes :)
Deletenein, es braucht keinen Titel, wirklich nicht. Dieses Bild, wie so oft bei deinen Bilder, spricht aus sich selbst, regt die Worte im Kopf und Herzen des Betrachters an. also ist der Titel eigentlich Provokation, denn es ist genau das Gegenteil, das auf den ersten Bilck so ruhige, flüstert, tuschelt und erzählt eine ganz Mengen ...
ReplyDeleteich weiß nicht, ob es ein Gedicht wird, ich muss noch ein wenig darauf schauen.
hugs and kisses for you my friend,
isabella
Isabella: Irgendwie möchte ich eine Stille, die alles sagt zu finden. Was ich sage ist eine Übersetzung von einigen kleinen Stück von diesem Schweigen.
Delete.
sometimes my playful nature makes me feel the urge to argue for the opposite (though maybe it is more than playfulness, maybe this is just the living paradox we cannot escape :-)
ReplyDeletea little poem by William Carlos Williams:
http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mb6djkn4lt1qd384p.jpg