June 11, 1960
When a question is put to me, the answer does not come from a will; what happens is that materials come which I then use to give shape to the answer, but it's only a shape. The thing itself is there, but it needs to be shaped. The difference between one and the other is rather like the difference between a picture and an apparition.
Sometimes the Force comes direct. And it picks up words, any words at all, that makes no difference; the nature of the words changes, and they become expressive BECAUSE of the power entering into them. This happens when I look directly at the thing.
But when a question is put to me, it comes coated with all the mental atmosphere of whoever is asking the question. And this coating is often a mere reflection – much of the life has been removed.
The same thing occurs, there is the same difference, when I say something and when I see it (for example, when I look at one of those essential problems that will be solved only when the world changes). When I look at that in silence, there is a power of life and truth – which evaporates when it's put into words. It becomes diminished, impoverished and of course distorted. When you write or speak, the experience disintegrates, it's inevitable.
We need a new language.
For instance, if I have a vision (not a vision with pictures, not that, but something without any form or sound or words or... the THING itself, when I live the thing), and then later I speak of it to someone... I have a very tangible feeling of having to pull something to make it visible, perceptible and communicable – the splendor goes.
We need new organs of expression... It will come.