I love language. I adore the sound of it, the variety, the archaeology inherent in the history of words. I like its curlicues and marble arches of sound. Sometimes language makes me dance with the pure beauty of it, singing to me over centuries with all the grace and wry delight an author intended long before his death. I am tickled that to speak in French I must pout my mouth and shrug, and that the act of saying a few phrases sends me into a completely different frame of mind. How exciting that our cultural attitudes are encoded in our phonemes, just as our red hair or almond eyes are encoded in our genes.
I have a client at the moment who is completely new to the idea of language as ecstasy. I strongly believe we will never be truly skilled at something unless we adore it and can find the bliss inside its pursuit. I am now charged with communicating my passion for sounds and language and writing in a way that he will understand. In the process I am discovering my own passion once again.
To me writing is a lot like sculpture. The sounds are shapes, and the creation of a phrase is like carving out a new being, unique in all the world. To link these phrases together piece to piece is the beginning of an elaborate architecture. To build a cogent argument out of long boards and planed bricks is to discover clarity out of chaos, and we all breathe a sigh of relief when we can see that the floor supports us and the walls can stand. We can finally climb the stairs and see the outline of the cathedral in the distance, whereas for so long we have only heard the bells. The marble angels carved out of the fountain stone can finally sing and their song is heard by passersby miles away on the other side of town and time.
This is the thrill of creation and communication, all made possible with words.
Notre Dame De Paris 1 Temps de Catedrali High Quality – YouTube.
Mysterious Artemis 
Your first four lines of this post are absolutely beckoning.
Someone, a college lecturer, recently told me they were in love
with the word ‘pavement’. I asked if she therefore liked the song
by Adelle which includes the phrase ‘chasing pavements’
but she said “No.”
I think context is everything.
I am currently wrapped in the marble arches
of sound but for how long I don’t know,
pulled this way and that by words,
sound and music, perhaps
until my reckoning.
………………………………………..
Best wishes. Neil
Thank you Neil. It’s nice to take a risk with your writing and see it is appreciated. I’m glad my words spoke to you!
By the way, whenever I hear that song, I can only hear “chasing penguins.” I’ve tried to correct it, but that’s all I can hear. It’s more fun that way in any case.
Thanks for joining us here!
~Heather
Exquisite poetic expression. I can feel your love for writing and am inspired all over again to keep on with what i love best.
I have to agree, you need passion to truly master a skill. Technique without a desire to cultivate it to fullness, is merely an empty temple to talent. Good luck with your mentoring, I would be curious to learn how you manage to inspire that passion in your pupil. Forcing something makes it work and not enjoyment. That often seems to poison the passion from loving care to loathing.
Your passion for language is beautiful. And Notre Dame de Paris is one of my favorite French pieces. Lovely post.