New Fiction: “Experience, anyway.”

For some time I have been lacking for representation.  Processes and patterns go on, no doubt, but nothing materializes save scattered words, informed thoughts, scholarly papers, and so on.  Spouse says of self: “I need something to shoot for, develop toward, to propel…otherwise I stagnate, repeat…” and I agree with her – I’ve been itching for fiction – a larger project – something to belong to and build while fulfilling responsibilities, learning, parenting, husbanding, being “professional.”  But the pages have been blank.  This morning I began, and it started like this:

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Experience, anyway.

            And stared at the head of Buddha.  As if literature were whatever could be fitted to symbols.  There were experiences anyway.  Complex goings-on.

He started.  As if starting were the only thing he could do.  He, she, self, other, organism – whatever.  It had begun.  If there were a god, it might know where, but they – for the life of them – could not figure it.  Not literature.

And for all the anyway-experiences, also.

In other words.

They stitched and thatched and wove, tore through, ripped out, clipped and pasted and tagged.  For all the cross-hatching and shading, foregrounding and back-, no image came through.  Or if it did, it never matched.

Representation.  Representamen – for a more mystical suggesting.  Arcane.  Obtuse.  That which is metaphor’d.  That which signals, indices, or forms.  That which functions.  Which can be acted on, or with, within, without.  Functioning ephemera.  To latch.

And undo.  It passes.  Lock on – decipher.  Pass around the room.  Agreeing by argument, it becomes.  Difference.  Evaporate.

The head of the Buddha is shaped out of stone.  More likely poured, cast.  More likely art – official.  What is artificial? – But human construction of world.  That radical deflect.  That begin.  In symbol.

At a certain time (constructed, invent), cross-purposes : experience.  Anyway, perceived.  So aroused – appreciation, cognition, desire, belief – purchased (bought, fallen-for, faith-in) : acquired.  Experience, anyway – head in corner on bookshelf knick-knack antiques, money (that wasn’t there), and taken away.

Evaluation = meaning.  Interpretation.  Somewhere whereabouts and how, or when – experience, anyway.  Action occurs.  It’s started.

June 23, 2013 – 3:44 pm – if you had the coordinates you could Google Map it.

What I was composing the other day in my head, or wherever daydreaming occurs: filling up that gap between inside or outside, idea and actual, etcetera.  They told me not to worry about losing it – that it would return, re-emerge.  I lost it.  The idea, sensation, form, content – everything.  Well, not everything, exactly, I guess, because how could I conjure that there was something, some experience, some initiative or other, had I truthfully lost it?  Okay, maybe they’re right, and “everything” is a question of access.

In any case, well, no – in present case or tense or whatever now-situation might be (“Weather”? – see Roland Barthes, The Preparation of the Novel, or Tim Ingold’s essay in Vital Beauty) I am not experiencing “access” to something some part or parts of me (some connectivities) believe or invent a past tense for – a disjunction/abstraction/detachment from.  A difference.

I am believing that I felt differently about something at some other time, that language was forming out of me relating to that affect, and that I had the potential capacity to express all that semiotically – or, in a way that it might make sense, be shared, exist.

Now I’m languaging nothing.  Or, not exactly nothing, more like a different something that in fact is the semiosis of another inexpressible or inaccessible possible something.  Which means, potentially, anyone could find it, discover/uncover/invent/compose/co-construct (co- probably redundant to con- but then I’m not Russian, at least not currently) that initiative and perhaps I’d re-cognize or re-member whatever realigned threads rewove into this particular weaving (what is “now”).

Etcetera.  This is how it goes down for me (current context taken mostly for granted).

 

 

for Friday Fictioneers – 21 June 2013

copyright -Managua Gunn

As long as nobody moves.  Scenario accomplished.  Sky filled with blues.  Reflected in waters, reassembled by lines – manufactured / emergent.  The breath would come.  Optionally.  A reality could be structured with less than this.  Hold still.  In the beginning – world.  Populous, variegated, intricate with potential.  A setting of pebbles and mimes.  Activities at the ready.  Engine set to whirl.  As long as nobody moves.  Nobody says.  Nobody breathes.  Still-pointed swirl.  Anticipation.  The drawing of the sneeze.  A trickling toward itch.  Hummingbird-eyelid.  A sudden rush of wind.  Transgress.

In the Mix: Against Obsession

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Making Trouble….er…Making Meaning (via Jay Lemke)

I personally attempt to read every writing I am able to obtain by my favorites.  Some of my blog entries may therefore be redundant, as redundancy is a way that I am able to sense patterns and make connections and thereby forge what I experience as meaning.  The following is one of the summary writings (nah, that’s not quite right – even with redundancies and retellings I rarely find a summary-type writing by my favorites – there’s always difference – and that is what snags me!)… Okay, for your interaction, pleasure, and engagement, without further ado…

Making Meaning, Making Trouble

by Jay Lemke (1995)

Percival Everett on Meaning

Infinite Medium / Unlimited Meaning

“And the fact is that ordinary words don’t have just two or three but an unlimited number of meanings, which is quite a scary thought; however, the more positive side of this thought is that each concept has a limitless potential for variety.  This is a rather pleasing thought, at least for people who are curious and who are stimulated by novelty.”

– Douglas Hofstadter & Emmanuel Sander –

 

“A meaning only reveals its depths once it has encountered and come into contact with another, foreign meaning…” – M. M. Bakhtin

Response to a Question from Novy Mir

– M. M. Bakhtin –

“the word is a microcosm of human consciousness” – Lev Vygotsky

the Epilogue from Paul J. Thibault – Brain, mind, and the signifying body: an ecosocial semiotic theory

A lightening, a delicious weight

The semester is beginning to dissolve, moments opening up for readings that wander further afield… the pleasure of not squeezing freedoms into necessity however inextricably they are entwined… the reprieve arrives today in the form of:

“What is to be understood through seeing and hearing (even if not at first glance) cannot be too far removed from what is already known.  As incomparably as something unutterable may be expressed at times in a gesture, a grouping, a picture of feeling, or an event, this always happens only in immediate proximity to the word; as something hovering, so to speak, around its core of meaning, which is the real element of humanity…the essence of the person does not reside in his experiences and feelings but in his silent, persistent quarrelling and coming to terms with them.”

-Robert Musil-

Additional “freedom fare:”