The words take on particular meaning in those who hear or read, so we try to measure them, choose the appropriate measures to ensure that our interlocutor to interpret it accurately, without distorting the original idea.
Sometimes, words have their own life from the beginning, when spontaneously linked in a sequence unplanned purchase rate, play, ... to be part of a speech, a poem, a sentence ... so so beautiful, so creative , so intelligent, so clear ... that no longer belong to its owner. It's those moments when, to pronounce them, they surprise us and show us a part of ourselves. Moments in which they fly like birds, are diluted in space are free. No tape recorder, text or image that can catch them, keep them. We can only hope that others remind us what those words meant to them.
I leave a piece of text that inspired this post. Words in Saramago's Workbook:
"Without having to worry about the thematic frameworks necessarily establish each specific question, if only that its stated intention, launched the first word, and the second, and third, like birds to which it opens the door of the cage, without really knowing or without knowing at all, to where I will. Talking then becomes an adventure, communicating becomes the methodical search of a path I about who is listening, always bearing in mind that no final and instantaneous communication, it is often necessary go back to clarify what was stated only briefly. But the interesting thing is discovering that the speech, rather than simply to illuminate and highlight what I also thought I knew about my work, invariably ends up revealing the hidden, just intuited or sensed, that suddenly becomes in irrefutable evidence that I am the first to surprise me, as someone who was in the dark and just open our eyes to a sudden light. Anyway, I'm learning the words to say. Here's a good conclusion, perhaps the best, for this speech. Finally shortly. "
Sometimes, words have their own life from the beginning, when spontaneously linked in a sequence unplanned purchase rate, play, ... to be part of a speech, a poem, a sentence ... so so beautiful, so creative , so intelligent, so clear ... that no longer belong to its owner. It's those moments when, to pronounce them, they surprise us and show us a part of ourselves. Moments in which they fly like birds, are diluted in space are free. No tape recorder, text or image that can catch them, keep them. We can only hope that others remind us what those words meant to them.
I leave a piece of text that inspired this post. Words in Saramago's Workbook:
"Without having to worry about the thematic frameworks necessarily establish each specific question, if only that its stated intention, launched the first word, and the second, and third, like birds to which it opens the door of the cage, without really knowing or without knowing at all, to where I will. Talking then becomes an adventure, communicating becomes the methodical search of a path I about who is listening, always bearing in mind that no final and instantaneous communication, it is often necessary go back to clarify what was stated only briefly. But the interesting thing is discovering that the speech, rather than simply to illuminate and highlight what I also thought I knew about my work, invariably ends up revealing the hidden, just intuited or sensed, that suddenly becomes in irrefutable evidence that I am the first to surprise me, as someone who was in the dark and just open our eyes to a sudden light. Anyway, I'm learning the words to say. Here's a good conclusion, perhaps the best, for this speech. Finally shortly. "
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