Irene visited me here, so I visited her blog. I had been there before, though I don't know when or how I got there. The name of the blog is "Pregnant Pauses" and she writes, "A pregnant pause is a momentary stillness laden with significance. It is rich, prolific, provocative, wow. It is a threshold for ideas and can translate into one to one thousand emotions. It welcomes imagination and brims with untold possibilities. Sometimes, it is even pinched with humor. Life's most unforgettable moments are highlighted by pregnant pauses. Now, I gladly share with you mine."
I talk, write and pace to formulate ideas; the opposite of pauses. It's as if I gain momentum from my physical movement, like those tiny toy cars you first make go backwards in order to wind it up, and the minute you let go, it goes forward. Though I call my studio variously the womb, the cocoon, the basement with one small window, when I am there it is by no means a quiet place.
Writer Joan Rosier-Jones told me to "write it, don't tell it" when I first met her 12 years ago, but it's not just about writing. For the amount of talking, writing, pacing AND thinking I do, I produce very little finished products, weaving or otherwise. I do breadth well, not depth, and not longevity.
Just yesterday, I heard on the radio about the new Kate De Goldi book called "Billy". (Her web site doesn't have the info yet, but an Australian site does.) Billy is an outside-the-square kid, and is told to go to the "Quiet Space" several times a day, and by the end of the book, he is not changed, but is redeemed not in a small way. Something made me go to Pages and read the book last night.
I need to learn where my Quiet Space is.