Monday February 20th 2012 Tim
surprises how when a word is written it takes on existence. Quite
erroneous, in my view, because the nature of a word is to reflect an
impasse, otherwise there would be no need for words. And invariably this
view of words is dismissed as not useful.
However, in the great
tapestry each moment is a brick wall, and to move from one moment to the
next requires idea. In the tail wind our exhaust is text, which I suggest
offers insight into the view of a word as the beginning. Meanwhile the
Early Maple is about to bloom.