monoceros blogsOn what could be one of the worst days so far, I picked up a few peculiar details around me -
1. I received a bouquet today and there were small white feathers stuck to the edges of the red tissue paper. Do florists deliver feathered creatures as well?
2. Midway through the trailer for this year's teen chick flick - Aquamarine - I caught sight of a Giordano shopping bag. I didn't know Giordano had arrived in America.
3. The six-inch Victoria figure from McFarlane's Corpse Bride line has lopsided pupils. In the official photo, she looks slightly cross-eyed. On my desk, one eye is going upwards and the other is gazing straight at me.
4. Last summer, while Noob and I waited for his friend to finish shopping in an Ann Taylor store in Chicago, a mannequin fell over in front of us. Noob fished the finger off the floor to show me and I knew immediately I wanted to keep it, so it now sits on my desk, next to a small music box bedpan. For someone who doesn't eat ladyfingers, I have a bizarre desire of keeping the inedible sort on display.
There aren't easy answers to many things in this world. Sometimes I love life because of that, sometimes I don't. For instance, I love wondering why giant squids need such large eyes, the largest of any creature on earth (the size of dinner plates, if one must know). In a book I read once, a character said maybe it's because it's so dark down where they live in the ocean. And yet I don't like thinking about why people change or hurt each other even though they may not want to, even though they don't know why. Well, I do think about it but I seldom find the answers. I remember a professor who told me that you begin a story with a question, and you set out to answer the question but you don't have to pin down the answer. It's okay if you can't; but it's important that you try to. The story, the journey - every journey - lies in the search.
Posted by Monoceros at February 4, 2006 4:26 PMthe very last line is so true, monoceros!
Posted by: tiggie at February 5, 2006 12:55 AMThis entry reminds me of the poem below. I write it from memory so the line-breaks are probably off, but hopefully. . .
The Journey by Mary Oliver
One day you finally knew
what you had to do
and began
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles
?mend my life?
each voice cried
but you didn?t stop
you knew what you had to do
though the wind pried
with its fingers
at the very foundations
though their melancholy
was terrible
it was already a late enough
and a wild night
and a road full
of fallen branches and stones
but little by little
as you left their voices behind
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of cloud
and there was a new voice
which you slowly recognized
as your own
as your strode
deeper and deeper into the world
determined to do
the only thing you could do
determined to save
the only life you could save.
My best as you work through what Kenyon calls the violence of your grief. Your solitary journey is *not* taken alone.
This blog entry reminds me of "The Alchemist". Don't quite know why but I guess it's the idea that a journey is more important than the destination? To me, youth asks "Why?". And as we grow older, I ask, "Why not?"
Posted by: june at February 5, 2006 3:06 PMAndre, that is a gorgeous poem. Thank you so much quoting it here. And you wrote it from memory?! Life is certainly richer because of poems like these and also blessed because of friends who share them. I owe you an email from long time ago. =)
June, boy, it's good to hear you and what a compliment you're paying - the Alchemist? Perhaps I should go read it again, it's been years. And it sure seems like years since we last met up. Hope to see you soon.
Posted by: monoceros at February 6, 2006 9:35 PMJust wanted to share this quote:
Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day...
(Rainer Maria Rilke)
ps, thanks for that. I love Rilke's stuff, and this quote is perfect for the day.
Posted by: monoceros at February 7, 2006 9:54 PM