The Art of Talking

by Arantxa Villa

The Art of Talking 

By fourth year Alexis Kelley

The Spectator was a British periodical written by Joseph Addison and Richard Steele in the early 1800s. The premise of this work was that they were everyday men that would spectate the crowds and happenings around them and would write about it periodically. You should read it if you haven’t before. Anyways, I felt like them today as I was walking around and wanted to write my own Spectatoresque entry on the art of talking. 

Everyday we say words. That’s what talking is. The thought comes into our mind, our filter thinks it’s a good thought, and it comes out of our mouths as air and sound. Theoretically, we can say anything. We can say “You look nice today” or “It looks like it might rain” or “would you like to go to dinner with me”. All of those things are words that were probably spoken even today. So what makes it unique? Can anyone be good at talking? Can it be an art?

Take walking on the sidewalk for example. Today, I forgot my airpods in my bedroom so I didn’t have anything to listen to as I walked to class. Maybe this is just me, but at first, it felt a little awkward. It felt a little silent. At first, I walked in an area where no one was saying anything and I thought, well why would they talk? What was there to say at 9:25 in the morning on the way from our cars to our classes. 

But then I thought about all of the things I had already said this morning. I was just as chatty as I could be at 8:45am because I was walking through my house saying goodbye to my roommates as I left for the day. If I was walking with my best friend down this sidewalk I would have everything to say. I could talk about anything. It wouldn’t have to be serious or meaningful, but it could be. It’s interesting to think about all the things we say to the people we love. When we walk down a sidewalk we could be talking about our deepest and most confidential thoughts, or we could be talking about that squirrel over there that is so chubby and cutie. 

What about conversation is comforting? Why do we feel the need to talk about the chubby squirrel? Is it simply a recognition of its existence? Does it come from an innate desire to fill space - to be heard? If we truly think of talking as an art, should we stop talking about the silly little things that don’t matter? Is a part of being good at talking knowing when to not talk? Why do the thoughts we have in the silence not get the chance to be said? What makes one thought more important than the other?

These questions lead me to believe that talking is important. Some people might be comfortable in the silence, but I want to hear the thoughts of the people around me and to share my own. I like conversation, even when it seems pointless. It reminds me that even a person walking silently in front of me with their airpods in could teach me something new over a cup of coffee. The small talk made in a crowded room could lead to a deeper friendship later. The brainstorm sesh over a random group project could bring people together with a common goal. All of these moments of talking connect people. The words go out a mouth and into an ear to create something shared.

Talking is easy. But to be truly artistic at talking, think about what you would say to the person walking down the sidewalk with you.