pattern that emerges


 

To weave is more and beyond to write. Or perhaps not. To weave, must one first warp, a long, repetitive, act. One thread must through one needle eye go--a thread as long as the tale to be told; and tangled they may become, these single threads, as one pulls them off skein or spool. As many threads warp as woof is wide, and since threads be thin, not narrow means many needles threaded, many skeins or spools unwound, and long straight well-tined lengths must be spread out, before being wound in and fastened, now the weaving to start.

 

So: learn your alphabet. Learn your words. Grammar a bit. Rhythm the more. Then weave your lore?

 

The to and fray of these letters across the page: the shuttle of thread between the parted warp. Kesi a simulacrum, or maybe not, to the Heart.

 

Reading, writhing, and rhythmatic: we tacitly and explicitly participate in a phenomenon of emergence that troubles traditional borders separating writer and audience. We're in it! With interactive writing, authorship becomes displaced  and distributed (in networks of participatory production). Before we weave, we prepare. Yes! and anticipating is activity, too: rituals of reading and writing repeat, techniques turn to fine. We don't armor up to spin a yarn for the threading, we repeat fine gestures to "loom up" while wyrding awaits.

 

Mircea Eliade tells us that "as early 1892, R. Otto Franke ("Mudra=Schrift") proposed translating mudra by 'writing or art of reading,"" and traces scholarship relating mudra to

dance,

symbolic language, iconography, and ritual" (Yoga 405). We share gestures, even oppose them to each other, and here we can already begin to mesh.