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One small window and a hundred big joys

bluejayI am blessed with a lovely kitchen window which opens to a jasmine tree, standing between me and my neighbour. The tree embodies as many seasons as Montreal has to offer: short-lived purple blossoms; dense long lasting green leaves; colourful falling leaves; and snow covered bare branches, at times decorated with long icicles, in the whole duration of our long winters. I guess my kitchen’s window is partly responsible for my cooking passion! What makes spending time in the kitchen all more enjoyable however is the birdfeeder I bought a couple of years ago. It feeds many birds and it creates a world around it which feeds my soul as well.

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The culture of ellipsis

The culture of ellipsis means you don’t finish what you want to say, it means instead of putting a verb in your sentence, you leave the reader up in the air.

The culture of ellipsis means you don’t speak your mind, that you don’t deliver your words, and that you assume yourself to be shrewd for doing so.

The culture of ellipsis is to quit; to surrender the space you are expected to fill, and to fail to shoulder the responsibility for your own ideas.

The culture of ellipsis is limited neither to rhetoric, nor to three dots. Take this obsession with the use of metaphor and allusion – the venue that has enabled our thinkers and literate to survive the autocracy-stricken history of ours, and has now become our disposition it seems. Such obsession is a type of ellipsis on its own right, as it hinders the plain speech and clear mind, sending the reader off track, in search of meaninglessness.

Ellipsis is not the same as silence; rather it is the art of wrapping the words in a web of ambiguities while those eager to listen and learn are in full attendance.

The culture of ellipsis is to speak in twisted words to friends and foes alike, either to tease or to quiz. The culture of ellipsis, in short is to be expectant, but not to be transparent.


Tango

Untangle me in a wind-chime and make me sing; tangle me in a tango and make me cry

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Get rolling

Good people and things never vanish; they just creep into my dreams once they disappear from my life (and they do that a lot!) That is why I must capture and share, even if only on the air, the remarkable instances of my world before I disappear myself: Here is the plan: three times a week, I throw in some or all of the following: edible delights I pull from my kitchen, magical scents and colours I cultivate in my flowerbeds; hopes and despair I carry along the way. Stay tuned!