Toe in the Water: finding the words

Words have become quite hard. It used to be so easy, now it's like...I'm trying instead to find the pictures in my head I've become more used to. Pictures in my head are fine - I always had those, after all. It's just that way back when the words used to come more easily, whereas the pictures would remain where they had begun - inside my head.


Do I have anything to say in words any more? All I tend to see is snatches, moments - pictures speaking for themselves - almost as if the 'words' part of my brain has ceased up a little - like a muscle needing exercise.


But pictures are reality and I'm not sure I have anything - imaginary at least, possibly altogether - to say any more. The story-telling part of me, aswell as the discursive part of me, not based on everyday experience, family, here and now....very much out of practice, and out of touch.

So: a kind of reclamation.


Words are also, of course, partly a way to compensate for the isolation of working alone. A way perhaps of finding the good paths, avoiding false trails and wasted energy, when energy is all you have, and is not finite.