I have been thinking a lot about conversations, particularly about conversations and certain directions. To put it another way, conversations between two people and how they change depending on the facing-in direction of each person. For example, two people are sitting in a car, one driving, the other is a passenger—chances are the driver will rarely if ever look directly at the passenger as they talk, and if they did, it would not be for a long moment. The passenger, on the other hand, might also be looking forwards at the road, or they could also be looking at the side of the driver's head, or anywhere else, but certainly not limited to the straight beyond. In this way, the direction of the talking-sounds and the travel of the words almost—although not necessarily—takes the people away from each other.
Another example of conversational-directional-outcomes would be two people sitting across from one another at a small table, or perhaps two people sitting at right angles to one another—right angles, left angles. I haven't had time to dissect the details of this thinking, or what precisely it means, but I do know that it vastly affects the contents, the tone, and the parameters of any one conversation, with any two people. I have tried to illustrate this below:
It is clear this needs more detailed thinking, but it was an interesting place for my head to find itself a couple of days ago, and I do believe that the ways in which we orientate and place ourselves in respect to another person and their body has a large effect on a large number of things. How can we still feel a connection, or a closeness, when we are looking away, and what does it mean if we need to consistently turn our heads ninety degrees to make eye contact?
WORK-RELATED NEWS:
Unbeknown to myself, the publicists at Penguin, my editor, or my agent, there was a write-up for Eating the Sun on Brainpickings, published August 12th. It is, was, continues to be, a very good piece of news.
Maria Popova writes that it is a 'lyrical and luminous celebration of science and our consanguinity with the universe', and although the article left me quite mouth-open, I will not try to disagree or be tempted to pick apart any of the monstrously kind things that were written no I will not.
If you would like to do so, the full article, review, something punctuated by a lot of yellow, can be read here.
THIS WEEK I FELL IN LOVE WITH:
Work by Philippe Charles Jacquet—paintings full of blue and heights that definitely seem to explain something, although I'm not sure quite what it is that is being explained.
“Don’t you believe the wind is pink?” the boy says. He keeps his head down in the book.
“Course I believe it, honey,” the lady says. “Course I do.” She looks at us and winks her eye. “And what color is the grass, honey?”
“Grass? Grass is black.”
— Ernest J. Gaines, from “The Sky is Gray,” Bloodline
Copyright © 2019 Ella Frances Sanders, All rights reserved.