A Failure to Communicate

In Paul Newman's classic role as 'Cool Hand Luke (1967)', the chain gang captain said to him in front of other prisoners, "What we've got here is... failure to communicate. Some men you just can't reach. So you get what we had here last week, which is the way he wants it... well, he gets it. I don't like it any more than you men."

Without getting into what my livelihood is, I was a failure to communicate, of sorts. I recall one of my earliest instructors in my field said to me after a test, "You are the only one in the class the test failed to profile. You acted the same if you were happy, sad, or whatever." I thought that was an odd commentary then.

Over the years, I have learned when doing reading, writing and even listening to words or music, my mind goes into a data-processing mode. In most instances, it is voiding emotions and mental images. In other words, my brain is suppressing these sensations unless it is told otherwise.

Take the words Three Oranges. I know what these words meant and what they represented. I just don't "naturally, normally" see the images of oranges when I read or write them on paper, or via the computer screen. As for listening to music, say, Ravel's Piece En Forme D'habanera, I hear the quiet or pensive notes, sans images. Emotions with conjured images are filtered, for the expediency of getting me from Point A to Point B.

Recently, I wrote some very scintillating proses packed with vivid images on another blog. But I did not tell myself (the mind) to convert what I wrote into images or probable emotions. Only after receiving some emotionally charged proses written in response, then I had to re-read what I wrote. This time in technicolor.

Here is a way to explain how my mind works. Let me use this Shakespearean verse, as an illustration:

The liquid drops of tears that you have shed
Shall come again, transform'd to orient pearl

- Richard III, Act IV, Sc. 4

A beautiful verse indeed. Full of meanings. There were no mental images per se associated with this verse when I typed it. From within my mind, these words were supposed to be understood, and need not be visualized. As a matter of fact, that's what I'd expected when others read my blog - until now. Others don't see or hear things as I do.

Anyway, someone could very well write a comment to this post like:

"L'Envoi, you give off all the brilliance of a room full of pictures of the stars and the moon, and as much as warmth and heat."

Now, that's cold.