March 14, 2016
a.k.a. Pi Day, or even better, Rounded Pi Day 3.14 16. 𝛑
Here I am, sitting in my chair near the kitchen window. If I were to write instead, “Here I am, sitting in my chair at the kitchen window,” how would that make you feel? What would that communicate to you? Is it a matter of fact, or a matter of style? Is there some information here that is essential for you? These are not rhetorical questions. This is an inquiry.
I want to be able to communicate in both broad, lustrous strokes as well as fine, elegant painted-in edges. I seek a way of writing that moves effortlessly from macro to microscopic and then back again. There is a dream in me, not fully realized, that shifts frames of reference with silky ease and with brutal crashes. There is a hope, a desire, and as stated earlier, a dream, to coddle and coax and bash and fuck language, the language I am most familiar with, American English, like clay or steel, oil paint or waßerfarben, and reveal layer after layer of emotion, meaning, intent and wonder. And to that end, I ask a question: can the mere substitution of a preposition either subtly or outrageously influence the flavor, not just the meaning, but the olfactory memory of a scene?