Reading Writing

I was eager to learn to read and write.
I prepared myself an office; I collected into a show box, notes and papers I found around our home, and wrote on them small signs and pictures.
I would read it to myself out loud, sailing in a different legend each time.
Bending down above my notes, I was surprised by the tip of my pencil creating dots and lines, short and curly ones; it had a life of its own. I listened to the sounds, observed the dance. Each mark had a different resonance, a tiny written queen ant.

One day I fully apprehended that, in fact, each small drawing has  only one sound!

The charm of my writing was gone at once.

The queen ant’s wings fell down with deep disappointment.

One Response

  1. While watching your paintings on this site Nona and also your photographs of your pictures, I feel that they “promise” so much; you let us sense that there hides so much significance behind them, which soon would be discovered…

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