In the beginning it was the verb, and then too!

A look at the matter of writing and reading, of conversing, of exalting the word.

The interviewer asked me about the types of written texts… More than a question, it was a provocation to elaborate. So, I told him: That question is so vast that I like it! It seems like a question from Scheherazade, who saved herself and her sisters by asking questions like that and responding with stories and other arts to the expectations that she aroused in her fearsome interlocutor from The Thousand and One Nights!... It is as vast as that wide blue floor of polished cement that was in the huge patio of cayenne, guava and flowery trinitaria of my childhood, a floor that we washed and soaped and then slipped on... gold fish in the water...

There are so many types of written texts! Everything is written and everything is yet to be written... The musician, the composer has had and has seven notes to compose all the marvels he has created, only seven notes to continue generating magnificent sounds... The writer has used twenty-seven letters in Spanish to write, settle the stories in the wind, scribble the log of the days and nights in your diary, and review it from time to time, fix it on paper or on the computer, remember and write it down in a pocket notebook; create other realities, keep writing and even predict utopias and dystopias...

You ask me about types of texts and I would say that the spectrum ranges from the text we write in a group chat to the love letters that are still in style today. From a condensed tweet to a postcard via air mail. From the contents of the envelopes with delicate diagonal borders, blue, white and red that the eternal postmen still carry to the first poetry that sons and daughters write and one comes and saves them for when they grow up and thus preserve expressions like: I like to love you! I like to caress you! terms with which Elisa Leonor made us grow as parents, also inventing a new verb to conjugate tenderness: the verb to care!... From the medical prescription, with everything and that crinoline typeface that many doctors still have to preserve their secrets! even the minuscule recipes for remedies. From the Bible and other sacred texts to photo novels and novels; from the joke and to the story; gossip, stories and poetry with rhyme and without rhyme; the written word, the sung word, the magic words and the spoken word that comes to you as a podcast, a voice message, a radio drama; the script for a television show, the script for a movie, or the beautifully enigmatic play… The humorous text, the biographies, the lyrics of the songs, the essays, the street signs where prodigies are found, the press that now also travels through the Internet, in the absence of printing paper that has also been seized by some who don't even read !…

The good thing is that there are writings for all tastes! You just have to go on the Internet and find even entire libraries in pdf. Or, better yet, go to a library or a bookstore and let yourself be seduced by that smell of old wood, like someone who enters a bakery just at the time when the hot bread or biscuits are coming out of the oven... and marvel at the books! …There are people who lose their lives and have never had the almost liturgical pleasure of going into a library or a theater. There the written texts float, condense in the air and excite thanks to the art of the actresses, the actors, the other theater artists...

There are those who find signs even in lip reading, in the vague bottom of a coffee cup, in the numerous lines on the palm of the hand, in the mysterious charm of playing cards, in the generous calligraphy of cards. clouds, in the heavenly grammar of the stars, in the delicate sonority of nocturnal insects or in the deep manifest of marine waters... in the secret language of pets or in the rumor of the breeze when it sings and converses with the sheets that just got hung up...

This is how the word accompanies us from before we are born and until after we die, the same as parties and good humor... You write, you love with words... when the pregnant Mom goes and caresses her prodigious belly and he sings and tells dreams of the future to his baby and tells him other beauties making duets with Dad and the rest of the family... once the baby is born and you sing to him to lull him to sleep, he sleeps and wakes up happier... When we teach him to count with our fingers and songs with the words there... When we read them a story so that they light up and be amazed by the fantasies of their ingenuity... When we serve as a horse and mounted on our shoulders we tell them stories of wandering heroes and ladies beloved… The word rides with us generating imaginaries…

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— Dorine May Sat Jun 23 01:17:18 +0000 2018

In those first stages, in those first bars of life, the word comes with love, it instinctively comes out of another and enters one to prepare us for life. Writing those memories is a very important, supreme experience... Saying those words, recording them in writing is preserving them so that the memory of the songs and games that sleep in the ancestral depths of humanity's chests is not erased. And is there still who asks why preserve them? Because they are lessons in tenderness to make us a person and open ourselves to complexity, to make a soul. And tenderness is a right, as the poet Luis Carlos Restrepo once wrote! That Colombian gentleman wrote a book that begins with an epigraph taken from Roland Barthes's Fragments of a loving speech: Where you are tender, you say plural... Restrepo's book is called The right to tenderness and it is a whole argument about rights in intimacy, inside and out, as part of those proper rights of the human being that it would be opportune to build there from the maternal womb for all social spheres and throughout life. By then, thanks to the word, to writing and reading, we will start making antibodies and defenses, friendly tools and mechanisms, essential for the future.

Afterwards, when we grow up and intuitions begin to combine with knowledge, we enter a wonderful area that is that of crazy logic. That's what I like to call that area, that's what I've said and encouraged in my workshops with girls and boys for a few good years when, with love and respect, we scrutinize the senses... There appear relationships and assertions of mischief, insight, grace, that the boy or the girl are releasing and that surprise us as new truths that are, that are constituted! A whole adventure full of mischief with the language, a whole stage of new discoveries will occur in relation to the word, its reading and writing. A whole process begins where, if the girl or boy has not yet mastered reading, they already recognize some letters and the words they do not recognize, they invent them! It is a whole process of capturing new meanings placed next to the original intuitions, a journey that begins as a game and that is what the mother and father propose and then the first teachers who are in charge of this crucial task.

Like breathing, in those first years, listening is key -as in the rest of life- to add new phrases and continue to encourage ingenuity; reading and writing become splendid keys to make us flow in that universe of words. That is why play is crucial and not imposition! The accompaniment and not the intrusion, nor the directivity that, if it is too much, suffocates!

If this teaching-learning process, if this phenomenon could be preserved in the waters of play, in the playful field -combined with knowledge- we would be more complete beings, beings with a soul. At some point grammar enters and there, if the teacher or the teacher does not have the correct information of the pedagogical meaning, that can become torture. The educator is a hard task, very intense and poorly paid, badly valued in our region and in these times when educators have to bite the bullet, carrying out their work with low pay and taking care of a girl! The educator as the artist could well be treated and demanded as first class citizens once and for all in our entire region and in the world universe!... It is essential to know the mechanisms of communication, as opposed to the historically incongruous apparatus of mere diffusion, so that the game remains with the own rules that each game has, but from the site of the artisan workshop!

In the artisan workshop, in the heat of the elements and tools, the potter takes care of himself, he does not worry; He is in charge of teaching his apprentices to model until they are able to lift the piece. And learn to lift the piece, over and over again, until the end of days and nights, until that reaches virtuosity!... And the tenderness there, put into the gesture, put into the word. You can Yes you can! When are we going to leave him!?

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