Dec
23
Endwords
Maybe it is somehow from being one encumbered with words that I moved to the visual presentation of these meaningless marks we have come to believe in, come to depend upon. Skeptical enough, I accept no answer, but my mother tells stories (tells a single story) about how I as a pre-literate child was enraptured by the printed word: How I would spend hours examining the textile of newsprint, the warp & woof of the word written & palpable. I cannot remember this (remembering instead the effect of picture books upon my psyche & dream), but I keep with me in the pocket of my mind a rubbed-smooth amulet of a rememory: a towheaded toddler, kneeling, head bowed, hands and nose against the rough pungent surface of the newsprint, examining the pattern for meaning.
