Words, like birds, have wings. Pin them down and they die.
I can remember the precise moment when I realized this.
On winter days there was always a very simple sight that fascinated me in the slowly approaching twilight at dusk as I stared at the Manahttan skyline from the opposite side of the Hudson river. The grandness of the sharp, metallic edges of that skyline got muted in the soft light of the dying day reducing the urban, precisely arranged quality of the vista somewhat in the evenings.
Against the wide expanse of the darkening sky and river, a host of birds would suddenly arrive out of nowhere flying back home wherever home was. They would, at first, be a series of dots in the sky in the distance growing bigger and bigger as they flew towards me until a simple pattern would become evident. The birds would fly right across my view of the water and then make a sudden stop all together. Then, in a coordinated movement, as though responding to the invisible hand of a master conductor, they would bend in their collective design, change direction and fly out of sight.
In the slight, sweet melancholy of the dying day those birds would leave me with the quiet, silent pattern of their subtle visual music in the half light of dusk.
When I think of those birds now, I realize that the best things in life are simple. Truth, people, relationships, even confectionery (think of the smell of freshly baked simple vanilla cake just out of the oven). If it isn’t simple, it isn’t real, it isn’t true. You need to cut through all that complex noise to get to the heart of the matter to find the simple truth. Simplicity doesn’t mean easy, simplicity doesn’t mean lack of complexity. It just means the light touch of that master conductor who is in harmony not because he is in control but because he is one with the object of his composition.
As a writer, I knew then, you have to relinquish control; you need to arrange words with the light touch so that we, your readers can make your words our own without sinking too far into the scrapbook of your dead where you have pinned your words into neat little boxes where they are supposed to be.
For words, like people, have wings. If you love words, you have to liberate meaning. Meaning can’t be tethered, no matter how hard you try. The more you tether words, the more they sink into your waxboards behind your glass cases where you can have your name etched to prove ownership but you can’t bring them back to life so people can feel with them. Your complicated polysyllabic acrobatics only twist those words out of shape so they stare at you with their dead eyes right from above your precise captions that make them say exactly what you mean but rarely able to make them mean what they say.
Someone shared these oft-quoted lines from Maya Angelou with me the other day and I thought of those birds, about writing and about my love for words.
You see, love liberates. It doesn’t bind. Love says I love you, I love you if you’re in China, I love you if you’re across town, I love you if you’re in Harlem. I love you. I would like to be near you, I’d like to have your arms around me, I’d like to hear your voice in my ear. But that’s not possible now. So, I love you.
Go.
That’s what birds, people and writing for me are all about. What about you?
bottledworder 
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Nice article, I like it
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Beautiful post, thanks for sharing!
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Thank you for planting the image of the dusk and the flying birds into my mind. I am a brand-new writer, having quit my 28-year career in high tech two days ago, and starting my own blog, http://www.lisawritefromtheheart.com. I have been poking around on your blog site and appreciate your advice about writing, and the generosity of spirit in sharing this with all of us.
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Thanks. I’ll check out your site. It takes a lot of courage to quit a 28-yr career and I must admire you for that!
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Giving wings to words is a beautiful metaphor. I believe that we must honor that creative place too. Inspirational.
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Your insightful post allowed me to think it is OK to release the words flying around in my mind. Words and the way they have meaning to some and sound like blah blah to others always amaze me.
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That was, as others have said, a lovely post, achieving what you are telling us about.
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Simple does not equal simplistic, it’s clarity. Personally, I love stories that are the written version of a quick charcoal sketch–enough to take my breath away bc of how much is captured and offered in a few lines, leaving room for each reader to project the details that make the story resonate. Beautiful post, BW, thank you for this. 🙂
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Thanks for your insightful comment.
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So lovely. The best things, the most real things are simple. Perhaps we make words into something too complex when we try to exert too much control. if we can back up a bit, words will tell the story simply, just the way they did for you, with the evocative story of the birds.
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Yes. Control also means too many adverbs, adjectives and modifying clauses at the stylistic level.
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What a great idea
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I love this and the idea of not tethering our words. Just that sentence itself is amazing. 🙂 I think I am understanding what you are getting at here: in other words, don’t be afraid to let words take you where they need to go? Makes me think of a picture of a hot air balloon with the word, “words” painted on the basket and the phrase underneath the picture: “Go explore!”
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I’m so glad you wrote this. At first, I was trying to write a post on simplicity and language–why I like lucid language. Your words “don’t be afraid to let words take you where they need to go” sums up the most imp aspect of my post so simply! Thanks for reading.
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It makes me want to draw the illustration I talked about in my comment…hmm, someday! 😉 you always have such great posts to inspire others!
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I love the layer of appreciation and understanding words add to sights and experiences that I already, although imperfectly, appreciate and understand.
Your description above of the birds is a case in point: “… those birds would leave me with the quiet, silent pattern of their subtle visual music in the half light of dusk.” That visual was already in my head, but I’d never attached words to it. To describe their flight as a “silent pattern” and “subtle visual music” adds an extra layer of beauty.
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Yes, words add layers and also take away layers and precision so that it’s impossible to represent something accurately unless what’s represented are words themselves!
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Beautiful post. Much to think about.
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