WHAT LANGUAGE: YOUR MESSAGE?
WHAT CALL: YOUR PLEA?
WHAT TONE: YOUR HOPE?
HOW LOUD: YOUR REACH?
Sometimes I’m asking for help.
But I’m not asking for help
in the right way.
One calls out, but the call falls on deafness.
The point might be that the call is incorrect, it’s the wrong language.
Or, the idea of that plea might be framed in a manner that isn’t rightly conveyed.
A call is one thing; a shout, another. A scream — still another; a whisper another.
I can recall, working with children, that the loudest yell is nothing but shocking. The off-putting boom — and the messaging call is dissociative.
And the better reaching gesture — sound, touch, insight, to the culling of attention — might be a whisper which implores and draws in. The whisperer is the wisp — a ghost of a moment that might reach all the more deeply into the momentary gaze of attention.
Another plea will sail away in the wind.
The wisp of the whisper might never be forgotten.
Sometimes, the message can be soft, not loud, and it will be heard round the world.
A murmur can be like a heartbeat.
In the context — with the textual — sometimes the most beautiful message is the most profoundly simple. Elegant — a whisper of restraint; the haiku of moment.
In the work that we do, defining voice, volume and its tenor, styled structure and character are the rootwork of relationships. If there’s persistent truth, and the rightfully layered set of messages and images, then a recollection will be held.
And you will not be forgotten.
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