57. Snow Shadows
Cixous puts a pen in my hand and sends me off to write, while Derrida[1] challenges the written word...being reasoned; set well below the spoken. If reason/word centric ideals are to be relied upon for expressing my daily reality and music; I’m all but lost. My referenced feminist friend instills me with courage and speaks to the solid ground I must find...yet instead, find a feeling of repulsion to the composed ideals of language. For now, language will have to wait. My sounds will have to be enough...because, where I stand today and the music that comes forth, no word represents well.
[1] The Politics of Jacques Derrida, by Lilla, M. (1998), The New York Review of Books, Vol. 45. Number 11. pp. 36-41
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