Strolling in an open-air arts-market on the Seine, I stopped in front of a stall with paintings that captured my imagination. I stood, quietly, alone, just me, in silence, when I heard the voice of the painter, whom I hadn’t noticed sitting on a chair, saying to me: “I am not a dreamer.”
I was surprised and curious about what she said. I was even more curious about what made her say that? What in my silent gesture made her think that I perceived her a dreamer?
This little interaction, took me spinning in explorations of perceptions about perceptions about perceptions.
I could not tell you why she said that to me, because even though we spoke for a few minutes, my French is limited and so was her English. I tried to get to the essence of it, and am not satisfied that I did. So, I let the need to know what made her say to me, “I am not a dreamer” go.
Instead, I am living in the question, “How are we saying what we are saying, when we are not using words?”