Ideas are pure. They are unfiltered perception. In the dark of all stimulation, there is still that something in our mind contemplating and imagining. Hoping, worrying, conspiring, wanting. Thinking happens with out even having to think about it. It is almost impossible to not do it. The mind is so naturally busy Eastern Religions find lack of thought to be Supernatural. They say that a blank mind is ideally spiritual. A seeming lack of consciousness is a higher state of being. That enlightenment comes not from the most complex thoughts of the most renowned intellectual, but from the stillness of what wants to be in motion. Any stimulation- touch, smell, taste, sound or sight- and the mind is in bloom with thought. Now suppress the urge to express that thought. Still the tongue and quiet the pen. More and more thoughts are leaving their morning driveways and heading to the main thoroughfare. To the Expression Highway. The road is fast becoming congested. The ideas become frustrated and honk angry horns at each other. Heat and trivial nonsense smoke off of them and fill the space between them. Their rhythmic desire to escape creates a pounding in your temples. Their anti-noise can keep a person up at night. Thoughts, dreams, desires, wishes, frustrations all bumper to bumper stacked on top of each other. From the mild greeting to an indignant rebuttal, they grow impatient. Ideas about how to solve the dispute with the neighbor (be it next door or the next country over) are locked in a traffic jam a leathery L.A. citizen would shrink at. Each of these ideas has something in common. They need something. They are not just hungry for it, they are ravenous. They hang on it like life support.
             They need words. Words to set them free. Words to open the door to the world. Words to get beyond the grey matter into something tangible, universal and understandable. Words color them in hues from cerulean to magenta to pearl. Words take them from ...