3.4.09

daft thought: it's a verb!



verb: every verb denotes an action, a passion or an operation and its symbolism is a direct consequence of the transference of this material sense to the spiritual plane. for example, to take food is symbolic of receiving spiritual or intellectual nourishment... to travel is to move, by exercise of the imagination and awareness, away from one world and towards another and so on.
cirlot, a dictionary of symbols, p. 360.


oddly enough, cirlot never did an entry on noun. i suppose it's because noun is simpler: it is what it is. without verb, it just.. well, stands there like sack of potatoes or something. even adjectives cant do much with standing-alone-lost-for-words nouns. wallflowers at parties. the passive, invisibles that somehow blend right into the wall- regardless of what kind of wall it may be! nouns that wants to speak but are bound tightly within the rigidity of their spellings. stuck! stasis! pause! rescue! help! all spoken in silence. at least sack of potatoes, given enough time, will grow evil eyes that makes you feel a bit conscious: 'sorry guys, i really didnt plan to forget about you all... gosh, STOP STARING!'

i feel as if i was trying to be a noun for awhile, esp. when schooling was done. if someone asked: so who are you really, i was ready to produce a list of nouns.
monkey, aka cecilia was:
doctor, barista, child, former musician, etc etc.

actually, i will be honest. that is as far as the list would go. trying to make list of yourself without verbs is a rather difficult task. even provoking really! try it yourself- and do exclude those words that can go either way: noun or verb. i wonder how far you would go?

i was trying. when you are a simple word with no context, your identity becomes... well short and easy. easy enough to be meaningless. just another entry on database. bah. i may as well just be a number. hullo. this would be 74954854. i feel 25493 and the impact would be 09823. and it's all 38456734. how ridiculous is that.

somehow, i was reminded that i dont need to become a noun. why not stay as a verb? thanks banff. what you did for me is not exactly a kind act, however, much more interesting act. now that ive been back, away from that explosive but artificial environment, im bashing my head through the thick, boring tasks of the worldly matters at the moment, including waiting for tax receipts, trying to figure out work schedules, laundry, etc. am not saying they are insignificant and just boring tasks. hey, sometimes you have to reach in and pick that nose (or other bodyparts of choice), not because it's significant but it's required. and nothing wrong with doing simple tasks. as long as YOU DONT BECOME SIMPLE YOURSELF.
simple as adjective is plain enough, nevermind the noun aspect of it:

c.1220, "humble, ignorant," from O.Fr. simple, from L. simplus "single," variant of simplex (see simplex). Sense evolved to "lowly, common" (c.1280), then "mere, pure" (1303). As opposite of composite it dates from 1425; as opposite of complicated it dates from c.1555. Disparaging sense (1340) is from notion of "devoid of duplicity." Simply (adv.) in purely intensive sense is attested from 1590.
Online Etymology Dictionary, © 2001 Douglas Harper


ive been stuck on whitman's leaves of grass for a bit now. the way he builds his pasture, the grasses arent just simple nouns. they are in process. growing, speaking, weaving inbetween the wind, drinking the rain, laughing, remembering, soaking from the blood of soldiers, and so many things that i may never see. this book transforms grass into a verb, always mutating depending on who i am, which is a variant, not a constant. the supple young leaves of grass that whitman has sown way back, even prior to 1855 publication date, becomes the tea leaves for my mind, which if i take the effort to immerse them in hot water, the words are no longer static, but sings in gentle rhythm of great poetry. sometimes mixed with all kinds of nuances, like lavender, hiding in the tea cup. unexpected, surprising, however, completely different sensation than lavender in a soap, for instance.

im never going to sleep properly but i should at least make an attempt. once again, i go from a noun: insomniac, to a verb: attempting (sleep). it's real nice that there are people who can play this game with me. and you know who you are (sounds serious now hahaha). so im going to attempt (yawn) to close this entry with a small reflection on cirlot's last example: travel. as a adjective or noun, it kinda sits there like... ya, the rest of the potato sacks. but boy, once you call to it as a noun-

it moves, by exercise of the imagination and awareness, away from one world and towards another

!!

there are moments in my days where i know that no distance or time can bar me from entering another world. pigment of imagination? sure. i dont care. all i know is i like being a verb and i do love to travel, to the world where i can build and add, and be whatever i would like to be. peeking into a window, then getting comfortably lost in the scene. alice would understand. so would puppy and salamander.

wouldnt it be grand if i could turn the word 'world' to a verb. sweet, that be daft.
good night.

1 comment:

  1. a noun, when verbed, grass (n) to grass (v)! becomes (v) when it does something to you, evoke a feeling or reaction; now it does something other than sit like sack of spuds.

    say,

    lav-en-der: (n); operative releasing secrets of fragrant dried tips of Lavandula Augustifola, usually with aid of hot water

    lav-en-der: (v); to evoke sensory and emotional response from aroma and taste of dried tips of Lavandula Augustifola

    i've been lavendered

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