FootprintsintheWind.com

Let it play live to the theater.
Let it be what it will be.

:- Doug.

What is it friend?

:- Doug.

Conversation is event.

:- Doug.

Events never repeat.

:- Doug.

Conversation can be purely for playing in.

:- Doug.

Conversation is a natural process—never a thing you do. Something you enter perhaps, or encourage, or evade.

:- Doug.

Conversation is individuals in connection: freedom in tension with relation, dependence, and participation.

:- Doug.

Come visit the WWOW—The World Wide Organic Web.

:- Doug.

Conversation is Our (Big Our) way to be part of life.

:- Doug.

A turn may be all the profundity a poem needs.

:- Doug.

Wait! Just how silly is a talking dog? Next we’ll have persons who actually meet each other—and be silly together—and be anything together!

:- Doug.

Melodious might be used similarly to nuance. Latin for pleasant song, from Greek melos song, limb, member + oide song or ode: sense is a series of tones related so as to produce a distinct musical phrase or idea. Hmm: conversing, a series of expressions relating so as to produce a distinct phrase or idea.

:- Doug.

In conversation we form human lichen. We take two unlike forms, you and me, and make something that has never been seen before. We sustain one another.

:- Doug.

Some conversations are guided by memory and some conversations are guided by imagination. One is alive. Jump off your track. Please. Hold your conversations lightly.

:- Doug.

The game of conversation has to be played. Only in the playing is its full complexity to be explored. Only in the playing is its full complexity to be made. Only in the playing its possible complexity runs ahead of the exploring.

:- Doug.

Conversation is a collaboration—of a musical sort.

:- Doug.

The audibility and visibility of conversation seem to have as their purpose only to reveal the person.

:- Doug.

Every one in front of you
Every last person you meet
Every one an enigma
Every one a puzzlement
Not to be noodled out
Just to be enjoyed
Every enigma enjoyed

:- Doug.

Sight sees at a distance from our eyes, and in its essence is of two dimensions. Its eyes reach out to grasp what it sees. Perhaps touch then is the primary sense, the three dimensional thing sight wants to grow up to be. But now I think both are a step away. Away? Away from sound, which reaches out to grasp us—by the ears, by the throat, and finally by the gizzards. For mammals it must have been the first sensation—the heartbeat! That over-washing heartbeat! And so conversation calls us from home.

:- Doug.

We, in our conversations, serve meaning. One meaning we serve is living. Perhaps the meaning of life is the living. Nothing more.

:- Doug.

Conversation, maybe the best of conversation, might be free of utility, done only for the music.

:- Doug.

I put the fingers of my right hand on the back of my left. My left feels the cool. If I work at it, my right feels the warmth, but not as much as the left felt the cool. It seems to be one at a time. I know they each feel the other: but it takes an effort to switch back and forth. And the left feels it more—is it because the cold is sharper, more insistent or more intrusive? Switch hands. The left fingertips are colder than the back of hand. Same difficulty attending two places at once. Fingertips to fingertips: There is cold here, but from which hand is it coming? The palms are warm: which feels which? I rub the palms against each other, and again I cannot identify where the sensation is felt. Is the brain confused? Does it not have a way to choose which pathway to take? Does it have a need to choose? Through my pants leg: the hand, moving, reports the feeling more loudly and more quickly than the leg, receiving. The leg does feel it. Is there a bias? Is this related to our inability to tickle ourselves? The problem is I want to feel each simultaneously.

:- Doug.

Are we willing to demand more of ourselves? Do we even want to elevate humans?

:- Doug.