Ode to Writing

Hopper said, “If I could say it in words there would be no reason to paint.” This used to be my favorite quotation of my facebook, back when I had a facebook. At the time I was doing lots of art. And I was quiet and unsure of myself when speaking, just like I am today. This quote expressed me, I felt, that just because I don’t have words for it, doesn’t mean it isn’t there, doesn’t mean it doesn’t have existence. It’s been difficult for me to connect to painting for a long time. It just takes so much time. Time that I don’t have. It’s a shame I didn’t paint more at the beginning of our marriage. I do like painting. It’s relaxing for me. But it’s time consuming. There’s too much to do before I’m able to express myself. I spent an hour maybe, an hour that I don’t usually have, painting, and I did one small section of a larger idea. Writing has become my go to. So my take on Hopper’s quote is ” If I could say it in words, there’d be no reason to write.” Sorry Hopper. He’s been dead a while so I don’t think he’ll have any qualms on my copywrite infringement. When I write, it’s like taking off my mask during a chamsin, like coming up for air after holding your breath at the bottom of the pool, moving into triangle pose after one of Sarah Beth’s two minute warrior 2 segments, like walking into JFK for one of my biennial visits to the Old Country, nearly unaffected by the surly short-tempered security guards, because I can finally speak English without worry I’ll be taken for a naive, ungrateful tourist. But enough with comparisons. You get it. It’s a blessed relief to write. I can finally be. I can finally be me. I can finally express myself. It’s my opportunity to interact with the world. In person, I often go unnoticed. I once stood in a bakery waiting to pay for my loaves of bread, and the cashier literally did not notice my presence.  When I am noticed, it’s often unpleasant. Usually an old woman bent on insulting me and my parenting skills. I’m a non-confrontational kind of person. I’m a people pleaser. So unless you’re a family member or a good friend, you probably will never hear what I’m really thinking. But you can read it.