The Painting and the Book

The room is in darkness.

The painting and the book are in the room. Are the painting and the book in the room?

You enter the room. You turn on the light. The painting and the book are in the room. You see them both.

The painting is on the wall. You are in the room and the painting is in the room. You don’t look at the painting. You look at the painting. Whether you do or don’t, the painting exists.

The book is on the table. You are in the room and the book is on the table. You don’t look at the book. You do look at the book. The book exists, but it is asleep.

You pick the book up, hold it: the book stirs. You put it down: the book sleeps.

You look at the painting. You do not touch it. The painting does not move.

You sit down, holding the book. You open the book. You read the book. The book is awake.

When you look at the painting, the painting still has not moved. You like the painting, you admire the painting. The painting has its effects. You are affected by the painting.

When you read the book, the book moves. The black lines and marks form into something else. You have your effects. The book is affected by your reading it.

The book is a process: to, from; from, to. The writer needs the reader needs the writer. The reader needs the writer needs the reader. Without the writer, the book is unwritten. Without the reader, the book is unread. Without the process, the book is asleep, possibly dead.

You put down the book. You look at the painting. You leave the room.

Another enters the room. Another looks at the painting. It is the same painting. Is it the same painting? Another picks up the same book. Is it the same book?

Another leaves the room, taking the book, turning off the light.

The book is read by another elsewhere. Another affects the book. The book has its effects.

The painting is in the room. The book has left the room.

The room is in darkness.