Thursday, 15 June 2006

• Currently Reading Tortured for Christ By Richard Wurmbrand see related

  
  
  recently i've had a lot of conversations with strangers. i don't know why its all of a sudden, now, and so much more often than in the past. it seems like things like that come abruptly, at unanticipated moments - showing up when my mind is on something else or when i'm "busy". when my focus is close, close, close: my hands, my book, my laptop; the tea on my table. and then there is movement beyond somewhere. it's small - timid even - and my depth of field shifts: someone else.  often these people approach me to ask a casual question that gets turned into a conversation, or else a public episode will happen which generates discussion amongst myself and other bystanders. one old man actually spoke to me for no apparent reason other than to tell me about the glory days of his youth. the intricacy of a person is unfathomable. what exactly do all of their expressions mean? what about that glimmer of the eyes? and the tilt of a head, just so? how is it that a voice can be weighted with rancor, dark and terrible, when it speaks the blandest things -and as light and full as joy itself whilst conveying unintended offenses. its not so much what is said, but how. these unique, particular, personal things can never be captured with any language i know or conveyed outside of the original conveyance. they belong to the original. how precious, then, we all are. how worthy of attention.
  

  
  

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