08.31.08
Posted in Uncategorized at 3:32 am by Miracle ♪♫
“If I ask you about women, you’d probably give me a syllabus about your
personal favorites… But you can’t tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy… I’d ask you about love, you’d probably quote me a sonnet. But you’ve never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn’t know what it’s like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything…” ~Good Will Hunting~
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08.25.08
Posted in Uncategorized at 10:47 pm by Miracle ♪♫
Oh! To write for catharsis! To purify one’s soul with the constant whirlpool of ideas and emotions that brew within.
Eyeing the primal globule of espresso as I turned the machine on earlier resulted to yet another caffeinated analogy – espresso for writing, for that amorphous oozing urge, streaming in the veins. Waiting to emerge as entirely more than a laconic drop to become a fluid shape, but waiting for a cup to be cradled in to avoid growing too prolix, and waiting for something to turn this living machine on – whether another being out there bothers to drink it or not.
(…but to you, you who turned it on, you who is more than just another being of the coffee-loving crowd, won’t you take a sip?
Don’t leave me, even for an hour, because
Then the little drops of anguish
will all run together…
Will you leave me here,* evaporating?)
*from Pablo Neruda’s Dont Go Far Off
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08.12.08
Posted in Life Betwixt Book Covers at 12:06 pm by Miracle ♪♫
They could have nominated another fruit. Why the apple? Just because the world’s ancestral artists decided to depict a rosy fruit amidst Adam and Eve, does not mean we have to dwell on the apple’s image as the real fruit of the tree in the midst of the Garden of Eden.
The Bible never suggested the apple, no, not even the implication of the fruit’s reddish nuance. Unless you are Tom Robbins or bananas such as myself, it is rather unromantic and nearly impossible to picture the tree of the knowledge of good and evil bearing bananas (or even a durian), but for all we know, it might
have yielded bananas or durian. =P
After the Apple. I have just snacked on its first few pages. Before I continue, I am alerted by the title that however “biblical” this book may seem (since it is after all about the women mentioned in the Old Testament), I must be careful to discern whether the author, Naomi Harris Rosenblatt, abides or goes beyond what is written. Aside from the Bible, I rarely read any religion-related books for the reason that compared to other literary categories, I find myself tiptoeing and more cautious with this genre. We all should be. For it is in this type of non-fiction writings that one subtle line could influence our faith to be rooted in men’s wisdom or opinion rather than in God’s, and because of that we can be swerved into a dangerous direction unconsciously. However, this book caught my attention because of its main theme; biblical women. I thought it would be a wonderful experience
to view these remarkable women through another woman’s eyes. I have yet to prove Miss Rosenblatt’s words, but whatever they may be, I hope to gain more insight about womanhood before or after her last sentence.
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08.07.08
Posted in Uncategorized at 8:53 pm by Miracle ♪♫
“The Italians have a musical notation not found
in any other language: tempo giusto,
‘the right tempo.’ It means a steady, normal beat, between 66 and 76 on the
metronome. Tempo giusto is the
appropriate beat of the human heart.”
~Excerpt from Heart, Gail Godwin~
About a month ago, I set out to write about my metaphorical and literal cardiac state but did not have… well… the heart, to continue and reveal the writings to anyone, seeing that my heart and all four little chambers of it is after all too fragile
to wear on my words’ sleeve.
Despite the physiognomic forecast of a smile, I admit being weak enough to be able to affirm that an aching heart is indeed an invisible affliction. There are no blatant gashes, wounds, or amputations visible to the eye, and yet the heart remains impaired. Without real Joy the un-remedied bruises, lesions, and sores can become fatal. Moreover, the world abounds with pricked hearts. Contributing my own to the heartbroken populace would not be profitable for anyone.
(Since those who came before you comforted their consciences that my heart
would always find solace in God despite bleeding for a time, that I have what
Miss Godwin describes as a heart who suffers itself to be tormented, that I am a musician and can seemingly turn a graveinto a tempo giusto with ease, you can take advantage of that and do just as they did – break it or leave it.
Just make sure the scars you incise are carefully engraved heart shapes. My heart would then at least seem like a child’s lovely piece of art. You don’t know how to make pretty heart shapes? I’ll teach you. I know how to get my heart broken beautifully.)
Who resides
in that stinging space within my heart? One might ask. Why do I allow this person to carve scars in this delicate muscle? Wondering as Gilgamesh did, “for whose sake has my heart’s blood been spent?” I can produce different answers; he has a smile bright as the sun, I am not and never have been a riddle to him, and so on… but sometimes one finds it hard to explain why exactly, and we are even unable to pinpoint a person’s particular attribute for the logic of our devotion, and so we are left with a convenient answer from Pascal on how “The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing.”
But one day, it just dawns on you. The reason is simple. You are in love with that person’s heart. It beats in tempo giusto with yours.
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08.06.08
Posted in In Memoriam at 1:35 am by Miracle ♪♫
Farewell to another Russian giant
who lived not by lies.
Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
December 11, 1918 - August 3, 2008
“I am of course confident that I will fulfill my tasks as a writer in all circumstances — from my grave even more successfully and more irrefutably than in my lifetime. No one can bar the road to truth, and to advance its cause I am prepared to accept even death.”
“Solzhenitsyn’s voice, and
his pen that did so much to change the course of the 20th Century, have
been silenced. But he leaves behind an indelible mark. His literary
achievements have earned him a place in the pantheon of Russia’s
greatest writers, alongside Dostoevsky, Tolstoy and Pushkin.” ~Peter Heinlein
http://voanews.com/english/2008-08-03-voa25.cfm
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