start
stɑːrt
The one moment hiding inside every 'start'
The picture Something that was standing perfectly still gives one small jolt and makes its first movement. START is the step out of stillness into motion; STOP is the step out of motion into stillness.
Where the picture shows up in start
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work begins to move
We start work at nine.
wiː stɑːrt wɜːrk ət naɪn
Our working day opens at nine.
A dark quiet workshop fills with light and every pair of hands begins moving at once
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an engine catches
The car won't start in the cold.
ðə kɑːr woʊnt stɑːrt ɪn ðə koʊld
In cold weather the engine will not catch.
The key turns, the engine coughs twice, never finds its first breath, and falls silent
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the point you set off from
Let's start from page ten.
lets stɑːrt frəm peɪdʒ ten
We will begin at page ten.
A flat finger lands on a line of the page and the reading moves forward from exactly there
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it suddenly begins
It started raining during my shift.
ɪt ˈstɑːrtɪd ˈreɪnɪŋ ˈdʊrɪŋ maɪ ʃɪft
Rain came on while I was on shift.
One drop hits dry pavement and the dark wet spot spreads outward
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something new is set up
She started her own shop last year.
ʃiː ˈstɑːrtɪd hər oʊn ʃɑːp læst jɪr
She opened her own shop last year.
A sign goes up over an empty shopfront and the door swings open for the first time
All of it in one picture
Start is a single picture: the first movement out of stillness. Hands begin to move in a quiet workshop and work has started; an engine finds its first breath and the car has started. A finger lands on page ten and that becomes the point you move from, and the first drop on dry ground means rain has started. A sign going up over an empty shop is the same picture - something that did not exist moves for the first time.