WayWords™ Demonstrated

When You Should Be Sleeping

Great works, complete works, recent works, selected works, forgotten works rediscovered. Homework, required work, a test on Tuesday. Work keeps us involved and engaged. Work it, work the program, work it into something worthwhile. If it doesn’t work, send it back. Work’s not hard to find; it’s getting it all done that’s the hard part. Work is a job: building a dam, writing a song, teaching the children, hanging on the side of a building to clean the windows. Work is for all of us working class heroes. Work that you love is a dream, isn’t work at all.

Work with your heart, work with your head down, work with determination. Get back to work, but first get a better job. Workstations, work stoppage, work in progress, a work ethic in the workforce, creating a work of art. Work off the debt, then keep on working. Workload, work order, give it a workover, work through problems, we can work it out. Our work, your work, best work—let’s do it again. Your work precedes you. Harmony in the workplace, got it working again, works like a charm. It was working, so we left it alone.

The most important and mysterious thing in an artist’s life, as well as the hardest and the easiest, is the work. Although the most time in an artist’s life is given to the work, the most rewarding thing in that artist’s life is his time-consuming work. The only enduring things in an artist’s life are love and the work. So work before you eat, work before you put on your clothes, work when you should be sleeping. Work as if you’ll never stop. Work before anyone knows your work. It all works out.

A Panacea, But Also a Burden

Intelligence doesn’t grow on trees; it isn’t in the manual, it isn’t off the shelf, it has no relatives. Intelligence has no affiliation with a political party; it doesn’t go to parties, necessarily. Intelligence doesn’t wear the latest threads, doesn’t wear clothes at all; intelligence is bare to the elements. Intelligence has few friends, and  has no choice in the matter. Intelligence just is (or isn’t, depending).

Intelligence is relative, subjective, off the wall; it is in places where you wouldn’t suppose you’d find it. Intelligence is spontaneous, is art, is supported by the facts. Intelligence is work-a-day, color blind, multilingual. Intelligence speaks to crowds, speaks to the individual, speaks not a word. Intelligence works for the good, and can be used for mischief. Intelligence can bring pain or alleviate it.

Intelligence, though not bookish, can be found in books. Intelligence is natural, like falling off a log, or learned, like scales on a trumpet. Intelligence is vision, although intelligence doesn’t see. Intelligence will send its possessors looking for others’ intelligence, but it can stand alone just as comfortably, for it knows the value of both states. We can live with another intelligence, so long as it agrees with ours. Intelligence is a panacea, but also a burden. Some carry loads of intelligence, but crumble under the weight. We can deny intelligence, we can differ with it, but we probably shouldn’t live without it if we can help it.

The Gift of Gab

Eloquence happens off the cuff—unforeseen, unanticipated. Eloquence gets things said in the right way for a change, and hence is often deeply appreciated. Confident eloquence is captivating and commanding, like a raven floating above the mountain against an evening sky. Eloquence is coherence in the face of confusion.

Calm in the eye of the hurricane, eloquence is a fish gracefully breaking the sea’s surface. Eloquence is a leap, a talent, a fluency. Eloquence flows like water, freshens like a breath of air. When eloquence speaks, it appeals to reason. Eloquence is art, expressed as articulation.

Eloquence can be a light in the dark, a call to understanding, a mastery of communication. Eloquence is a fog made clear, an obscurity made plain, the misconstrued made understandable—as if it were easy, as if it were simple, as if anyone could do it. Eloquence is witty and powerfully expressive; it can be dramatic, even forceful. To put it more colloquially, eloquence is the gift of gab.