I'm up early this morning to write my exhibition statement for Alchemy (the opening is at lunchtime and I realized with some surprise last night that I'd quite forgotten to do this . . . )
A couple of sentences in, I wrote what I thought was the word 'begin' only it arrived on the page as 'being.'
This got me thinking about words within words and about their relationship to each other. When one word - or more than one - lives inside another, does it necessarily carry similar energy or related meaning? When we unfold one word, lay it flat on the page and take a look at the contents of its stomach, what hidden torches, tools or bridges might we find? Perhaps the other 'embedded' words are there for the purpose of revealing something ordinarily unrecognized and out of sight. . . the way shadow can tell us more about light than light can about itself?
I used to dismantle and reassemble words a lot when I was a little girl and anagrams have always fascinated me. But what I'm trying to say here is a little different.
Mistaken slips of the pencil might in fact not be so mistaken. Perhaps they're an offering? This morning's certainly feels like one.
What are your thoughts about 'words within words' (which I don't think is quite the same thing as 'worlds within words'). Or is it?