Voiceless Language
Hands and arms flailing with awkward dexterity.
Motions to speaking are like finger paintings
to da Vinci. Houses and horses, never
depths or hues.
Simplistic. But my van Gogh in mime
beats my doodle in German or French.
“Your name what.” and “book I move.”
feels like stick figure scribbles on crumpled up paper.
Like calligraphy on linen, a “big tree”
turns into a tree towering high. Elegant
but impractical.
Sizes, places, movements
and times. Pictures, words
become unnecessary.
Useful as a diagram, but not as expressive
as a watercolor. Plays performed in this
simplistic jumble? Absurd.
And yet. Mesmerized
by the mixture of story and sign.
Merged like two colors
on canvas now inseparable.
Stages, props, actors, flowing
together as one.
Hands and arms painting with elegant artistry.