marginfades

The joy of movement. Words. Food & memory.

Posts Tagged ‘WordCount2012

Trial by Fire (Act Two)

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I keep writing drafts about my second act – but it’s still so new.  Maybe this time next year, I’ll have enough to look back and reflect upon.

In the meantime, I give you a brave second act. An engineer who’s become a playwright – someone whom I’ve watched transform into her most comfortable self over the past ten years.  I didn’t know until recently how much she’d gone through to experience her own transformation.

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May 17, 2012 at 4:28 pm

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The Mouse Daughter (First Act)

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There’s a fable I have heard often in my childhood about a childless holy man who takes home a mouse to his wife – and with their powers, they transform her into a perfect little girl, the one they’ longed for and never had.  She’s all things beautiful and wonderful, and brings joy to their lives.

When their daughter is of age, the holy man tries to interest her in marrying: first the grandest suitor, the Sun (she won’t have him because she’ll be burnt to a crisp).  The Sun then suggests the next mightiest suitor, the Cloud (she won’t have him because she’s daunted by his thunder), who in turn recommends Wind (who’s always on the move, and what good is an absent husband?), who thinks of Mountain (so cold, made of stone!).  Mountain in jest mentions the mere mouse, who’s not really worthy of consideration at all.

In exasperation, the holy man suggest that his daughter might as well marry the mouse – and she promptly agrees.

“I see myself in him – and he sees me.”

Which just goes to show you – like calls to like, no matter how it’s been transformed.

 

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May 16, 2012 at 11:06 pm

Despair, Deliberation

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There’s too much noise of my own choosing – as in, I am choosing distraction in all its forms.  Deliberately.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By lo.re.n.zo.

What I need is quiet for my mind and soul, and activity for my body.  I choose exactly the opposite – safe, and easy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By Jinho.Jung

Finding and holding my threshold of courage takes continual practice – daily, every moment – to repeatedly overcome, and gaining the momentum of deliberation.

Written by marginfades

May 15, 2012 at 9:17 am

Watering Hole

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Going to the public pool with my family was the beginning of my weekend, rain or shine, snow or sun.  It was socialization with built-in barriers: whether floating on my back or diving deep, my family was close by, and I was left to my thoughts in the depths.

Friday evening swims came to an end when Dad noticed the families dwindling, and the number of unattended teenagers showing up.  They were mostly good kids, but he couldn’t help but notice the boys’ horseplay, and the girls dry as a bone, draped over their towels without any other modest covering.

We never went swimming once I came of age, and I always thought it was because I had too much school work.  I never did enjoy a pool or beach party, after those Fridays.  Pool games, burgers and beer, and basking on a towel or in the water was fun – but what I really needed were compatriots who enjoyed the quiet gurgle of the underwater view, or the blue of the sky, endless as I watched from my float.

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May 14, 2012 at 8:56 pm

Ultimate Peace

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If only I could recover that serenity, experienced as an infant in your arms.  I dreamed it was you, the other night…and woke up to find someone else, running fingers gently through my hair in concern.

How I wish we’d known one another.

In her mother’s arms by Luke Redmond

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May 13, 2012 at 10:03 pm

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Slow Motion

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In our fast-paced life, I wonder if recreational rail excursions will gain popularity – such as the cross-country Amtrak trek Meg Keene recently embarked upon to promote her first published work (she shared the last leg of it with her husband, and they both enjoyed the experience.)

Travel by train’s never been America’s thing – road trips have.  Train journeys are more European, and even Asian – in fact it’s said that third-class rail travel is the only way to really experience India.

It’s a gem of brilliance that Bhi Bhiman chose Samuel Jeffrey’s point of view – primarily, from a train berth’s window, occasionally run in slow motion – to accompany the plaintive melody of his ballad Gutternsipe. It’s not at all how you would experience a train journey: picking up speed, scenery and people eventually pass you by.  And it’s not at all India, where time doesn’t stop.  

Perhaps that’s why it’s an important backdrop to this song – without any sense of home, Bhiman seems to find it in the moments in between a boy skipping along an empty line and each stroke of a the sweep’s broom.

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May 12, 2012 at 7:57 pm

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A Section of Sleep

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During a particularly fraught college semester, I jokingly mentioned to my lab classmates that a required course for our major ought to be a three credit hours of utter quiet and solitude (an hour every other day), with a recitation section of actual sleep (at least an hour each day – preferably during the afternoon). As much time as we were spending in an upper division chemistry course – not to mention the hours spent on sorting through homework and reports for the rest of our coursework, this minute amount seemed reasonable.

With the exuberance (and energy) of youth, we laughed and moved on with our work, bleary-eyed and ready for a break – yet soldiering on anyway. Years later, I read a story about sleep pods in New York, born of a similar idea in Japan. I wondered why I hadn’t capitalized on the idea.

Written by marginfades

May 11, 2012 at 9:13 am

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