Screens

I like screens, they are flat, shiney and alive with imagery of all kinds and words of all sorts. The most beautiful screens are those Chinese screens that my friends in textiles used to make with cloth and wood which would let you see what was behind only partially. They were so mysterious.

For a long time I used to keep imagining there were little people moving all the data and carrying messages back and forth in computers. Now they are mostly the place where my poems and some prose reside permanently I hope... at least till the time the little people get tired with all the running around and quit.

I was looking at my address book which I still carry though never use because I have the small cellphone screen. I realised that 95% of the numbers in my book are outdated. I wanted to copy everything from the cell screen to the diary but I haven't done it. If the phone is lost so are all the numbers. Funny thing is that I recently called every number in my cell and realised that a lot of people who had so enthusiastially exchanged numbers had already ' updated' so they didn't recognise who I was from caller id. I'm updated now and the little people have less to do and am sure will not quit.

And then there's the cinema screen... larger than life. An entire hall full of little people sitting together and watching the big people. Eating pop corn, drinking pepsi and mineral water, holding hands, making out, laughing, crying, getting irritated and all of that. Together and yet not really so. It's like a large computer, only sometimes it feels like the big people are looking and smiling down at the little people thinking... I hope you won't get tired and quit watching us.

And ofcourse what can I say about the mother of them all the TV screen. I'm sure there are no little people running around in it because the little people are running in our own heads and I doubt that they will ever quit. Though sometimes one wishes to shut off all the screens because lately I feel like I'm always looking at a screen, reading words, hearing words, writing words... and yet there's no talk.

Validation

If a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it, does it still make a noise?
If you make a beautiful picture but no one ever sees it, is it still beautiful?
If you write something brilliant but no one ever reads it, is it still brilliant?
If no one ever sees you for a year, were you dead or alive that year?
All good questions I think. I'm sure they've been asked before by other people.
I don't want to read a complicated book or go to a Guru to find the answers.
Do tell what you think.