The work is what it means It is desirable to bear in mindâwhen dealing with the human maker at any rateâthat his chosen way of revelation is through his works. To persist in asking, as so many of us do, âWhat did you mean by this book?â is to invite bafflement: the book itself is what the writer means. Dorothy Sayers, The Mind of the Maker ââThe meaning of musicââââNo more than a sketchââââOn 'The Master and His Emissary'ââââOnly a mind opened to the quality of thingsââââTranslation is always a treasonââ meaningart
The quality without a name There is a central quality which is the root criterion of life and spirit in a man, a town, a building, or a wilderness. This quality is objective and precise, but it cannot be named. There are words we use to describe this quality: alive whole comfortable free exact egoless eternal But in spite of every effort to give this quality a name, there is no single name which captures it. Christopher Alexander, The Timeless Way of Building ââNo words to describeââââThis language without wordsââ beautylifemeaningspirit
The meaning of objects The meaning of objects is harder to grasp than that of words. The Interpretation of Microstructures of Metallic Artifacts meaningobjects
The meaning of music Once, somebody asked Robert Schumann to explain the meaning of a certain piece of music he had just played on the piano. What Robert Schumann did was sit back down at the piano and play the piece of music again. David Markson, Wittgenstein's Mistress ââThe work is what it meansââââNo more than a sketchââââOn 'The Master and His Emissary'ââ meaningmusic
A creature of bones, not words In building connections, [articulation work] builds meaning and identity, sorting out ontologies on the fly rather than mixing and matching between fixed and stable entities. Articulation lives first and foremost in practice, not representation; as its proper etymology suggests, it's a creature of bones, not words. When articulation fails, systems seize up, and our sociotechnical worlds become stuff, arthritic, unworkable. Steven J. Jackson, Rethinking Repair meaning
The shape of the sentence You've been taught to overlook the character of the prose in front of you in order to get at its meaning. You overlook the shape of the sentence itself for the meaning it contains, Which means that while you were reading, All those millions of words passed by Without teaching you how to make sentences. Verlyn Klinkenborg, Several Short Sentences About Writing meaningstructure
To build a folly To build a folly is essentially to do something a second time, something at an inopportune moment. That something is always the memory of something forgotten, about which we can paradoxically say "There it is again." Follies were misunderstood, purposeless constructions. They were often only small, extravagant gestures in a garden, easily whisking off the imagination to distant lands, a sort of time capsule built to awaken the memory and induce surprise in passers-by. They marked locations, organized secondary paths in a park, or simply predicted the arrival of better timesâa demarcation, a sacred spot, a mysterious trail, a hill whose tragic rocky nature begged for a tower, a party, or the arrival of summer. Smiljan RadiÄ, Death at Home ââDesigned to be ruinsââââFolliesââââThermal aediculaeââ meaningpurposeconstruction
Let the meaning choose the word What is above all needed is to let the meaning choose the word, and not the other way around. Probably it is better to put off using words as long as possible and get oneâs meaning as clear as one can through pictures and sensations. Eliezer Yudkowsky, Rationality: From AI to Zombies meaningwords
Taboo your words Albert says that people have âfree will.â Barry says that people donât have âfree will.â Well, that will certainly generate an apparent conflict. Most philosophers would advise Albert and Barry to try to define exactly what they mean by âfree will,â on which topic they will certainly be able to discourse at great length. I would advise Albert and Barry to describe what it is that they think people do, or do not have, without using the phrase âfree willâ at all. Eliezer Yudkowsky, Rationality: From AI to Zombies meaning
The arbitrariness of the sign A key difference between verbal language and the modernist ideal of a visual âlanguageâ is the arbitrariness of a verbal sign, which has no natural, inherent relationship to the concept it represents. The sound of the word âhorseâ, for example, does not innately resemble the concept of a horse. Ferdinand de Saussure called this arbitrariness the fundamental feature of the verbal sign. The meaning of a sign is generated by its relationship to other signs in the language: the signâs legibility lies in its difference from other signs. Ellen Lupton & J. Abbott Miller, The ABC's of âČâ â: The Bauhaus and Design Theory ââGods of the Wordââ soundmeaninglanguage
The eye does not see The eye does not see things but images of things that mean other things. Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities meaningseeingimages
The utter nothingness of being Everything written symbols can say has already passed by. They are like tracks left by animals. That is why the masters of meditation refuse to accept that writings are final. The aim is to reach true being by means of those tracks, those letters, those signs - but reality itself is not a sign, and it leaves no tracks. It doesnât come to us by way of letters or words. We can go toward it, by following those words and letters back to what they came from. But so long as we are preoccupied with symbols, theories and opinions, we will fail to reach the principle. "But when we give up symbols and opinions, arenât we left in the utter nothingness of being?" Yes. Kimura KyĆ«ho, On the Mysteries of Swordsmanship ââThe Elements of Typographic Styleââ zenmeaningsymbolsbeingreality
Whereof one cannot speak My propositions are elucidatory in this way: he who understands me finally recognizes them as senseless, when he has climbed out through them, on them, over them. (He must, so to speak, throw away the ladder, after he has climbed up on it.) He must surmount these propositions; then he sees the world rightly. Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent. Ludwig Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus ââWhat can be put into wordsââ meaning
Not knowing quite what they mean "Do you understand all the symbolism?" "Not really, besides its being Venus and Cupid." "I didn't even know that, so you're one up on me. I wish I'd read more about ancient mythology," she continued. "But actually, I like looking at things and not knowing quite what they mean." Alain de Botton, On Love meaning
Things cannot be other than as they are âIt is demonstrably true that things cannot be other than as they are. For, everything having been made for a purpose, everything is necessarily for the best purpose.â â Professor Pangloss Voltaire, Candide purposemeaning
50 reds If one says âRedâ (the name of a color) and there are 50 people listening, it can be expected that there will be 50 reds in their minds. And one can be sure that all these reds will be very different. Josef Albers, Interaction of Color perceptionmeaning
No words to describe If there is no term for something, it might be thought that the commodity is of small importance. But it is just as likely that this something is of such importance that it is taken for granted, and thus any conveniences, like words, for discussing it are unnecessary. Donald Richie, A Tractate on Japanese Aesthetics ââThe quality without a nameââââThis is Waterââ meaningwords
That is not it at all It is impossible to say just what I mean! But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen: Would it have been worth while If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl, And turning toward the window, should say: That is not it at all, That is not what I meant, at all. T.S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock meaning
A soft and fitful luster Who decided that the American public couldnât handle âa soft and fitful lusterâ? I canât help but think something has been lost. âA soft sparkle from a wet or oily surfaceâ doesnât just sound worse, it actually describes the phenomenon with less precision. In particular it misses the shimmeriness, the micro movement and action, âthe fitful luster,â of, for example, an eye full of tears â which is by the way far more intense and interesting an image than âa wet sidewalk.â Itâs as if someone decided that dictionaries these days had to sound like they were written by a Xerox machine, not a person, certainly not a person with a poetâs ear, a man capable of high and mighty English, who set out to write the secular American equivalent of the King James Bible and pulled it off. James Somers, You're Probably Using the Wrong Dictionary meaningwords
Reference and Is-ness There are at least two aspects to what we have traditionally called the meaning of a word. One aspect is reference, and the other is something I will call âinherent meaningâ following Ullman (1963). Inherent meaning is âIs-nessâ meaning. Inherent meaning is a wordâs identity, and reference merely its resumĂ©, where it has gone and what it has done, an itemization of its contexts. âIs-nessâ is unifying. Each word has a single pronunciation, a single inherent meaning. But reference is divisive. It makes what was one thing â the word â appear to be many things â its senses. It is inherent meaning which gives all those multifarious senses the power of being a single word. Margaret Magnus, Gods of the Word meaningwords
The demand of a new word Why are these phonosemantic classes enough, and we need neither more nor less? Why are these consonants enough, and we need neither more nor less? What determines the need for a new word? How is this demand âfeltâ by a language? How did the metabolic pathways of American English recognize that âjerkâ and âtwerpâ and âpunkâ and ânitwitâ and âdorkâ and âassâ and âgoonâ and âtwitâ and âdodoâ and âbumâ and ânerdâ and âdunceâ and âturdâ and âboobâ and âchumpâ and âbitchâ and âbastardâ and âprudeâ and so on and so forth simply were not equal to the task? We had to add âturkeyâ and âsquirrelâ as well? Margaret Magnus, Gods of the Word wordslanguagemeaning
Apparency Half a century ago, Stern discussed this attribute of an artistic object and called it apparency. While art is not limited to this single end, he felt that one of its two basic functions was "to create images which by clarity and harmony of form fulfill the need for vividly comprehensible appearance." In his mind, this was an essential first step toward the expression of inner meaning. Kevin Lynch, The Image of the City artmeaningimagesharmonyform
Fish and water How does one speak about something that is both fish and water, means as well as end? Ursula M. Franklin, The Real World of Technology meaningwords
The word invents itself Posits certain neologisms as arising from their own cultural necessityâhis words, I believe. Yes, he said. When the kind of experience that you're getting a man-sized taste of becomes possible, the word invents itself. David Foster Wallace, The Pale King wordsmeaningnoveltyinvention
AI-art isnât art An Essay by Erik Hoel erikhoel.substack.com AI-generated artwork is the same as a gallery of rock faces. It is pareidolia, an illusion of art, and if culture falls for that illusion we will lose something irreplaceable. We will lose art as an act of communication, and with it, the special place of consciousness in the production of the beautiful. âŠJust as how something being either an original Da Vinci or a forgery does matter, even if side-by-side you couldnât tell them apart, so too with two paintings, one made by a human and the other by an AI. Even if no one could tell them apart, one lacks all intentionality. It is a forgery, not of a specific work of art, but of the meaning behind art. artconsciousnessbeautymeaningai
The Future Is Not Only Useless, Itâs Expensive An Article by Dan Brooks www.gawker.com This is how NFTs make me feel: like the future is useless but expensive, and world-altering technology is now in the hands of a culture so aesthetically and spiritually impoverished that it should maybe go back to telling stories around the cooking fire for a while, just to remember how to mean something. ââA particular deficiency of which they all partakeââ technologyfuturismmeaning
The Gifted Listener: Composer Aaron Copland on Honing Your Talent for Listening to Music An Article by Maria Popova www.brainpickings.org The poetry of music, Copland intimates, is composed both by the musician, in the creation of music and its interpretation in performance, and by the listener, in the act of listening that is itself the work of reflective interpretation. This makes listening as much a creative act as composition and performance â not a passive receptivity to the object that is music, but an active practice that confers upon the object its meaning: an art to be mastered, a talent to be honed. ââMusic and ImaginationââââTo see is to forget the name of the thing one seesââââThe core assertionââ musicpoetryartmeaning
On 'The Master and His Emissary' AÂ Quote by Ian McGilchrist www.ttbook.org People who make works of art, whatever they might be, have gone to great trouble to make something unique which is embodied in the form that it is, and not in any other form, and that it transmits things that remain implicit ...Works of art are not just disembodied, entirely abstract, conceptual things. They are embodied in the words theyâre in or in paint or in stone or in musical notes or whatever it might be. ââThe work is what it meansââââThe meaning of musicââââIf a book can be summarized, is it worth reading?ââ artmaterialmeaningform
A brief foray into vectorial semantics An Article by James Somers jsomers.net One of the best (and easiest) ways to start making sense of a document is to highlight its âimportantâ words, or the words that appear within that document more often than chance would predict. Thatâs the idea behind Amazon.comâs âStatistically Improbable Phrasesâ: Amazon.comâs Statistically Improbable Phrases, or âSIPsâ, are the most distinctive phrases in the text of books in the Search Inside!âą program. To identify SIPs, our computers scan the text of all books in the Search Inside! program. If they find a phrase that occurs a large number of times in a particular book relative to all Search Inside! books, that phrase is a SIP in that book. mathmeaningwordsnotetakingsearchchance
The way an oyster does A Fragment by Kay Ryan www.csmonitor.com Her poems, [Kay Ryan] says, don't begin with a simple image or sound, but instead start "the way an oyster does, with an aggravation." An old saw may nudge her repeatedly, such as "It's always darkest before the dawn" or "Why did the chicken cross the road?" "I think, 'What about those chickens?' " she says, "and I start an investigation of what that means. Poets rehabilitate clichés." poetrymeaningcliché
The primacy of interpretation over sensation AÂ Fragment by Mark Liberman languagelog.ldc.upenn.edu Our memory of exact word sequences usually fades more quickly than our memory of (contextually interpreted) meanings. More broadly, the exact auditory sensations normally fade very quickly; the corresponding word sequences fade a bit more slowly; and the interpreted meanings last longest. These generalizations can be overcome to some extent if the sound or the text has especially memorable characteristics. (And the question of what "memorable" means in this context is interesting.) memorysensesmeaningspeechwords
The body image AÂ Quote The body image is informed fundamentally from haptic and orienting experiences early in life. Our visual images are developed later on, and depend for their meaning on primal experiences that were acquired haptically. ââMetaphors We Live ByââââGods of the WordââââThe Eyes of the Skin: Architecture and the Sensesââ bodymeaning
Meaningness AÂ Website by David Chapman meaningness.com The word âmeaningâ has two quite different meanings in English. It can refer to the meaning of symbols, such as words and road signs. This book is not about that kind of meaning. People also speak of âthe meaning of life.â That is the sort of meaningness this book is about. So I apply âmeaningnessâ only to the sorts of things one could describe as âdeeply meaningfulâ or âpretty meaningless.â meaninglife
The Mind of the Maker AÂ Book by Dorothy Sayers en.wikipedia.org Looking at man, [the author of Genesis] sees in him something essentially divine, but when we turn back to see what he says about the original upon which the âimageâ of God was modelled, we find only the single assertion, âGod createdâ. The characteristic common to God and man is apparently that: the desire and the ability to make things. ââOnly in terms of other thingsââââI mix it with two in my thoughtââââTowards a synthesis of experienceââââAnd these three are oneââââ"The right phrase"ââ+28 More religion
Only in terms of other things No legislation could prevent the making of verbal pictures: God walks in the garden, He stretches out His arm, His voice shakes the cedars, His eyelids try the children of men. To forbid the making of pictures about God would be to forbid thinking about God at all, for man is so made that he has no way to think except in pictures. But continually, throughout the history of the Jewish-Christian Church, the voice of warning has been raised against the power of the picture-makers: âGod is a spiritâ, âwithout body, parts or passionsâ; He is pure being, âI AM THAT I AMâ. The fact is, that all language about everything is analogical; we think in a series of metaphors. We can explain nothing in terms of itself, but only in terms of other things. ââMetaphors We Live ByââââYou only understand something relative to something you already understandââ metaphoranalogy
I mix it with two in my thought It is the artist who, more than other men, is able to create something out of nothing. A whole artistic work is immeasurably more than the sum of its parts. âI mix it with two in my thoughtâ; this is the statement of the fact of universal experience that the work of art has real existence apart from its translation into material form. ââThe design conceptââ art
Towards a synthesis of experience The artist does not recognise that the phrases of the creeds purport to be observations of fact about the creative mind as such, including his own; while the theologian, limiting the application of the phrases to the divine Maker, neglects to inquire of the artist what light he can throw upon them from his own immediate apprehension of truth. The confusion is as though two men were to argue fiercely whether there was a river in a certain district or whether, on the contrary, there was a measurable volume of H2O moving in a particular direction with an ascertainable velocity; neither having any suspicion that they were describing the same phenomenon. Our minds are not infinite; and as the volume of the worldâs knowledge increases, we tend more and more to confine ourselves, each to his special sphere of interest and to the specialised metaphor belonging to it. The analytic bias of the last three centuries has immensely encouraged this tendency, and it is now very difficult for the artist to speak the language of the theologian, or the scientist the language of either. But the attempt must be made; and there are signs everywhere that the human mind is once more beginning to move towards a synthesis of experience. argument
And these three are one For every work [or act] of creation is threefold, an earthly trinity to match the heavenly. First, [not in time, but merely in order of enumeration] there is the Creative Idea, passionless, timeless, beholding the whole work complete at once, the end in the beginning: and this is the image of the Father. Second, there is the Creative Energy [or Activity] begotten of that idea, working in time from the beginning to the end, with sweat and passion, being incarnate in the bonds of matter: and this is the image of the Word. Third, there is the Creative Power, the meaning of the work and its response in the lively soul: and this is the image of the indwelling Spirit. And these three are one, each equally in itself the whole work, whereof none can exist without other: and this is the image of the Trinity.
"The right phrase" How can we know that the Idea itself has any real existence apart from the Energy? Very strangely; by the fact that the Energy itself is conscious of referring all its acts to an existing and complete whole. Quite simply, every choice of an episode, or a phrase, or a word is made to conform to a pattern of the entire book, which is revealed by that choice as already existing. This truth, which is difficult to convey in explanation, is quite clear and obvious in experience. It manifests itself plainly enough when the writer says or thinks: âThat is, or is not, the right phraseââmeaning that it is a phrase which does or does not correspond to the reality of the Idea. wholeness
The argument carried on in a sphere We need not allow ourselves to be abashed by any suggestion that the old metaphors are out of date and ought to be superseded. We have only to remember that they are, and always were, metaphors, and that they are still âlivingâ metaphors so long as we use them to interpret direct experience. Metaphors only become dead when the metaphor is substituted for the experience, and the argument carried on in a sphere of abstraction without being at every point related to life. metaphor
A diversity within its unity The vital power of an imaginative work demands a diversity within its unity; and the stronger the diversity, the more massive the unity. diversity
The work is what it means It is desirable to bear in mindâwhen dealing with the human maker at any rateâthat his chosen way of revelation is through his works. To persist in asking, as so many of us do, âWhat did you mean by this book?â is to invite bafflement: the book itself is what the writer means. ââThe meaning of musicââââNo more than a sketchââââOn 'The Master and His Emissary'ââââOnly a mind opened to the quality of thingsââââTranslation is always a treasonââ meaningart
Writing for the stage From experience I am inclined to think that one reason why writing for the stage is so much more interesting than writing for publication is the very fact that, when the play is acted, the free will of the actor is incorporated into the written character.
In conformity with its proper nature If the characters and the situation are rightly conceived together, as integral parts of the same unity, then there will be no need to force them to the right solution of that situation. If each is allowed to develop in conformity with its proper nature, they will arrive of their own accord at a point of unity, which will be the same unity that pre-existed in the original idea. material
This is my clamhood It was said, sneeringly, by someone that if a clam could conceive of God, it would conceive of Him in the shape of a great, big clam. Naturally. And if God has revealed Himself to clams, it could only be under conditions of perfect clamhood, since any other manifestation would be wholly irrelevant to clam nature. By incarnation, the creator says in effect: âSee! this is what my eternal Idea looks like in terms of my own creation; this is my manhood, this is my clamhood.
Only so much of the mind Though the autobiography âisâ the author in a sense in which his other works are not, it can never be the whole of the author. It is still a formal expression and bound by the limitations of all material form, so that though it is a true revelation it is only a partial revelation: it incorporates only so much of the mind as matter is capable of containing. identity
To know evil For to know evil, for them, was to know it not by pure intelligence by by experience. Charles Williams evil
A time when time was not Darkness cannot say: âI precede the coming lightâ, but there is a sense in which light can say, âDarkness preceded meâ. Doubtless there is an event, X, in the future, by reference to which we may say that we are at present in a category of Not-X, but until X occurs, the category of Not-X is without reality. Only X can give reality to Not-X; that is to say, Not-Being depends for its reality upon Being. In this way we may faintly see how the creation of Time may be said automatically to create a time when Time was not, and how the Being of God can be said to create a Not-Being that is not God. darknesslighttimebeing
These alien wills Unfortunately his creation is only safe from the interference of other wills so long as it remains in his head. By materialising his poemâthat is, by writing it down and publishing it, he subjects it to the impact of alien wills. These alien wills can, if they like, become actively aware of all the possible wrong words and call them into positive being. They can, for example, misquote, misinterpret, or deliberately alter the poem. This evil is contingent upon the poetâs original good: you cannot misquote a poem that is not there, and the poet is (in that sense) responsible for all subsequent misquotations of his work. But one can scarcely hold him guilty of them.
When we say we know Hamlet When we say we âknow Hamletâ, we do not mean merely that we can memorise the whole succession of words and events in Hamlet. We mean that we have in our minds an awareness of Hamlet as a complete wholeââthe end in the beginningâ. We can prove this by observing how differently we feel when seeing a performance of Hamlet on the one hand and an entirely new play on the other. understanding
A fresh focus of power The demand for âoriginalityââwith the implication that the reminiscence of other writers is a sin against originality and a defect in the workâis a recent one and would have seemed quite ludicrous to poets of the Augustan Age, or of Shakespeareâs time. The traditional view is that each new work should be a fresh focus of power through which former streams of beauty, emotion, and reflection are directed. This view is adopted, and perhaps carried to excess, by writers like T. S. Eliot, some of whose poems are a close web of quotations and adaptations, chosen for their associative value, or like James Joyce, who makes great use of the associative value of sounds and syllables. ââOn TheftââââThe signatureââ novelty
Some secret stirring in the world There is some secret stirring in the world, A thought that seeks impatiently its word. Thomas Lovell Beddoes euphonymaking
To stand independent of himself The creatorâs love for his work is not a greedy possessiveness; he never desires to subdue his work to himself but always to subdue himself to his work. The more genuinely creative he is, the more he will want his work to develop in accordance with its own nature, and to stand independent of himself. creativity
What can be called a response With living, though unconscious, matter, the creator must still adapt the work to the material, though here he experiences something that can without undue anthropomorphism be called a âresponseâ; plants ârespondâ to cultivation and cross-fertilization in a sense rather different from that in which iron may be said to ârespondâ to hammering. gardens
A passive beauty of right structure The human maker, working in unself-conscious matter, receives no worship from his creatures, since their will is no part of his material; he can only receive the response of their nature, and he is alone in fault if that response is not forthcoming. If he tortures his material, if the stone looks unhappy when he has wrought it into a pattern alien to its own nature, if his writing is an abuse of language, his music a succession of unmeaning intervals, the helpless discomfort of his material universe is a reproach to him alone; similarly, if he respects and interprets the integrity of his material, the seemliness of the ordered work proclaims his praise, and his only, without will, but in a passive beauty of right structure. ââThe Web's Grainââ material
Father-, son-, and ghost-ridden We may properly and profitably amuse ourselves by distinguishing those writers who are respectively âfather-riddenâ, âson-riddenâ, and âghost-riddenâ. It is the mark of the father-ridden that they endeavour to impose the Idea directly upon the mind and senses, believing that this is the whole of the work. Among the son-ridden, we may place such writers as Swinburne, in whom the immense ingenuity and sensuous loveliness of the manner is developed out of all proportion to the tenuity of the ruling idea. The ghost-ridden writer, on the other hand, conceives that the emotion which he feels is in itself sufficient to awaken response, without undergoing discipline of a thorough incarnation, and without the coherence that derives from reference to a controlling idea. Such a man may write with the tears streaming down his cheeks, and yet produce nothing but turgid rhetoric, flat insipidity, or the absurdities of an Amanda Ros.
Running into the sand His whole creative history is that of great rivers running into the sand euphony
Not as the scribblers What writer whose trinity was strongly co-ordinated would even dream of revising his work to conform with the majority report of a committee? Those whose Idea is in full control are especially obstinate and impervious to criticism; for in speaking for the father they speak with authority and not as the scribblers. control
Failure in the ghost Whereas failure in the father may be roughly summed up as a failure in Thought and failure in the son as a failure in Action, failure in the ghost is a failure in Wisdomânot the wisdom of the brain, but the more intimate and instinctive wisdom of the heart and bowels. The unghosted are not unintelligent, nor yet idle or unskilled; it is simply that there are certain things which they do not know and seem incapable of knowing. Under the terms of our analogy, failure in the ghost is the characteristic failure of the unliterary writer and the inartistic artist. A distressing trait of the unghosted is their complacency; they walk and talk, and do not know that they are dead. Neither, of course, are they alive to the deadness of their own creation. How should they be? Only the living can draw any distinction between death and life.
Violence to the very structure of our being If we conclude that creative mind is in fact the very grain of the spiritual universe, we cannot arbitrarily stop our investigations with the man who happens to work in stone, or paint, or music, or letters. We shall have to ask ourselves whether the same pattern is not also exhibited in the spiritual structure of every man and woman. And, if it is, whether, by confining the average man and woman to uncreative activities and an uncreative outlook, we are not doing violence to the very structure of our being. If so, it is a serious matter, since we have seen already the unhappy results of handling any material in a way that runs counter to the natural law of its structure. creativityworklifematerial
It will revenge itself in judgment To the average man, life presents itself, not as material malleable to his hand, but as a series of problems of extreme difficulty, which he has to solve with the means at his disposal. And he is distressed to find that the more means he can dispose ofâsuch as machine-power, rapid transport, and general civilised amenities, the more his problems grow in hardness and complexity. This is particularly disconcerting to him, because he has been frequently told that the increase of scientific knowledge would give him âthe mastery over natureââwhich ought, surely, to imply mastery over life. Perhaps the first thing that he can learn from the artist is that the only way of âmasteringâ oneâs material is to abandon the whole conception of mastery and to co-operate with it in love: whosoever will be a lord of life, let him be its servant. If he tries to wrest life out of its true nature, it will revenge itself in judgment, as the work revenges itself upon the domineering artist. wisdomzen
The solution of the age The concept of âproblem and solutionâ is as meaningless, applied to the act of creation, as it is when applied to the act of procreation. To add John to Mary in a procreative process does not produce a âsolutionâ of Johnâs and Maryâs combined problem; it produces George or Susan, who (in addition to being a complicating factor in the life of his or her parents) possesses an independent personality with an entirely new set of problems. ...there is no strictly mathematical or detective-story sense in which it can be said that the works of a poet are the âsolutionâ of the age in which he lived...The artist does not see life as a problem to be solved, but as a medium for creation. problems
That anything in this world should be inevitable We do not so much fear the pains of dying, as feel affronted by the notion that anything in this world should be inevitable. death
In a day and hour which we know not âWe are at work now upon various devicesâ, says some harassed spokesman; and the imagination sees âusâ industriously assembling the device, as though it had been delivered in parts from a celestial workshop, and had only to be fitted together according to the book of instructions and put into use the same evening. That is not creationâs way. There is the wayward, the unpredictable, the not-to-be-commanded Idea, which may make its presence felt in the mind after long hours of fruitless thought and work, or suddenly after no thought at all, or after a long fallow period of unconsciousness, during which the conscious has been otherwise employed, but always in a day and an hour which we know not.
In terms which must be altered [Life] frequently sets its problems in terms which must be altered if the problem is to be solved at all. ââUnfoldingââââCo-Evolution of Problem and Solution Spaces in Creative Designââ life
The unending labour of creation Now the artist does not behave like this. He may finish a book, as we may finish a war or set up the machinery of a League, and he may think it is very good and allow his Energy a brief sabbath of repose. But he knows very well that this is only a pause in the unending labour of creation. Each chapter concluded is only a dayâs end in the course of the book; each book concluded is only a yearâs end in the course of a lifeâs pilgrimage. Or, if you like the metaphor better, it is a âstillâ cut out and thrown off from the endless living picture which his creative mind reels out. It is a picture in itself, but it only leads from the picture behind it to the picture in front of it, as part of a connected process.
To see the fulfillment of the work It is true that [the artist], like everybody else, derives remuneration from his work (though not, strictly speaking, profit in the financial sense, of the word, since what he invests in his work is not money but time and skill, whose returns cannot be calculated in percentages). The remuneration is frequently beyond the amount necessary to enable him to go on working. What is remarkable about him is the way in which he commonly employs the escape-from-work which the extra remuneration allows him. If he is genuinely an artist, you will find him using his escape-from-work in order to do what he calls âmy own workâ, and nine times out of ten, this means the same work (i.e. the exercise of his art) that he does for money. The peculiar charm of his escape is that he is relieved, not from the work but from the money. What distinguishes him here from the man who works to live is, I think, his desire to see the fulfilment of the work. ââFor its own sakeââââThe saddest designerââ craft