Peinture de Bram Van Velde
Do you ever notice as you write that no matter what there is on the written page something appears to in back of everything that is said, a little ghost? I judge that this ghost is there to remind us there is always more, an elsewhere, a hiddenness, a secondary form of speech, an eye blink. Not on the print before us. And yet the secret is that this secondary form of writing is what backs up the primary one. It is the obscure essence that lies within a poem that is not necessary to put into language, but that the poem must hint at, must say ‘this is not all I can tell you. ‘There is something more I do not say’. Leave this little echo to haunt the poem, do not give it form, but let it assume its ghost-like shape. It has the shape of your own soul as you write.
Barbara Guest, Forces of imagination, Writing on writing, « Wounded Joy », Kelsey St Press, 2003, p. 100.