This morning, in answer to the question, “What shall we talk about?” Emma wrote:
Today I am going to talk about using words to describe things that cannot be described.
How can it be done?
It is the poet’s attempts that come closest, but even then, much is left to the reader’s interpretation.
Poetry becomes an interactive experience then, with the poet having to cede all control of words created.
Real creating asks question of all. The answers are unknowing.
From Ariane: Last night I dreamt I could not speak. I was at the airport, leaving for the Far East and realized I had left my passport at home. I kept reminding myself this was a dream and that I could recreate the story line. I didn’t have to stay in the feelings of intense anxiety the dream was provoking. I could speak if I could just change the dream. I didn’t have to follow the dream’s labyrinth. Straining against all logic, I tried to fly, literally, back home, but kept being pulled back into heavy traffic and the anxiety of knowing I would never make it home and back to the airport in time for my flight. Not being able to use my voice to tell the cab driver where I needed to go, without pen or paper to write, I felt intense frustration and then rage.
Knowing I would miss the flight, knowing my family was at the airport waiting for me, and the nagging, ongoing critique of how foolish I was to have forgotten such an essential document as my passport made me finally wake up. It was one of those dreams where you are so horrified by it, waking at three in the morning becomes the more attractive choice, superseding the desire to continue sleeping and the knowledge of the inevitable consequences of waking at such an early hour.
Those feelings, like so many incessant and blaring alarms, jangle the nerves, and linger long after sleep has yielded to wakefulness. And then Emma wrote the above and I was reminded, once again, of how often words fail us. How often things said are misinterpreted, or said in ways not meant, or how even for those of us fluent in spoken language, words can become a kind of cage from which we cannot and do not easily escape.
Richard has been editing the video of our presentation. Hoping to post it over the weekend or on Monday…
I came across this article the other day and it made me think of you, Emma. Not only did I identify with it for myriad reasons, but it made me stop and think about all of the things we assume don’t – or can’t – exist simply because we don’t have words for them. It seems especially relevant to what you discuss (beautifully, eloquently!) today.
That’s an excellent article Anna!
Reading your blog has helped me understand more and more about each individual who has autism and has to suffer at the hands of impatience, making their lives more difficult. I really enjoy learning from you both, you are an amazing mother and Emma’s writing is incredible! Bravo girls…