Ink

Metaphor and ink share the same mechanics, conjured from a premise of elegance: in navigating through the world, make things as simple as possible, but not simpler.* In literary creation, the playing and inventing that occur at the periphery of conventional use is not unique to literature, but found in everyday writing. From the free verse of Ezra Pound to the profane exhortations of a rush-hour commuter--and every speaker, writer, and reader in between--all share the same metaphorical font (though with significantly varying degrees of competency and imagination). Any other way, writing would have neither means nor meaning. Grammar and lexicon are the means: a decorated sand bucket and matching shovel to organize, understand, and express experience of the world. Metaphor is meaning expressed, conjured from the navigation of experience. Grammar is that metaphor at its most abstract. A bicycle is that metaphor at its most concrete.