Is finished...
It's now 0.43am, Saturday barely started and my book is finally finished.
Well, as finished as these things get...
But it's 119 chapters strong, 302 pages long (A4), totalling 136145 words.
And enough stats!
Next phase is to actually read the whole thing again and see if this crazy structure I've given it makes any sense.
Probably chop a chapter or two along the way...
Just happy that this big project has reached some sort of conclusion. Now I want to start to look into competitions and sourcing out a few publishers... Send out a few copies to some friends and see what they think...
But, one thing I can tell you now: my next project is going to be completely different from this one. I want an adventure story, probably SF, something that will be easy to map out...
(I've got just the thing...)
Anyway just to say hello.
I'm back!
Hope you are well!
peace.
Saturday, 20 March 2010
Thursday, 4 March 2010
Stars of Battle
I don't even know why I'm writing this. To get a weight out of my chest probably. it's almost 2am and I feel tired. Drained even. I've spent the day (and the last few days) revising my first book which is probably the most challenging thing I've written so far.
And I've just finished watching the last three episodes of Battlestar Galactica, the reimagining of, I should say.
There isn't much to tell since it only make sense if you've spent all those hours falling in love with those people on the screen. Never underestimate the power of film, that's the big lesson that once again I've been reminded.
To tell you the truth, it really felt like a part of me died with the last few moments of that series. Even though I know I can revisit it, it doesn't feel that way. It feels as if that cycle is truly gone and lost forever. It's sad but also awakening. It's a big step away from the moment to moment insight meditation, but it carries a similar punch only one given with a slightly different kind of gloves. Much heavier, much slower, likely to stick around for a while longer.
I could tell you a lot on how brilliant I think the plot and the characters were for all this series but I'll spare you the rant.
What really is important is that, through images and sound, a deep feeling of love and compassion arose for what, ultimately, merely happened in my brain. I was being programmed, voluntarily induced to experience the full breadth of human emotions. And by sticking with the ride, by closing the cycle (and I think it particularly important that Laura Roslin is the last person to die on the series and she dies because her lungs fail her), there is something worth being gained. I guess when those lives close ours must come automatically under scrutiny. There's a void now. Perhaps to be filled with a new series. Perhaps not. Perhaps that void can just be there to make itself known. That space used for us to breath into ourselves.
I don't know.
I'm trying to commit words to describe something that I never will. So intimate, so personal, and yet something I know I will share with most humans at some point in our lives.
It's not the words. It's what they hint at.
I guess a lot of people were disappointed with the religious overtones. Especially towards the end. And I can see that and accept that. But, to be perfectly frank, that's missing the point. To me it's not really about religion. Not really. Or, rather, if it is, it's in a very different way that we tend to think about it. I think it's more about what religion does than what religion is. But, in doing so, perhaps hints at what religion would like to be.
This series is woven with such incredible force and yet so much delicacy. That final death was something that filled me so completely. Together with Kara's last scene. Those were the two most important scenes in these final episodes. Perhaps even of the whole series. Because of the simplicity. Because of the beauty. Because of the subliminal depth that they carry.
Kara was the second chance coming to an end without ever coming into full bloom in the love that finally had every possibility laid in front of it. Terribly sad and moving but, as with most of this series, incredibly poignant and appropriate.
And Laura... Laura had always been this strange creature who we'd all like to love but never really could. But she is the epitome (along the old man...) of the true leader. So much so that only with the closeness of death does she allow herself to fully come into being and allow herself to feel. Her death is well staged. We've been hearing about it since day one in the series. She dies throughout the whole scale. And we are dying with her. Perhaps in different ways, but getting closer to that moment as well.
And we all know it. Deep inside of us we do.
And, instead of a big dramatic end, we have simply the very essence of life, air, being slowly taken away from her. Her lungs not being able to cope anymore.
So beautiful and so powerful. I truly have no words to describe it. Because it's bringing us, each and every one of us to the closest thing we will most likely one day know: how it is to run out of air.
It's something I realised very deeply in this last retreat (and undoubtedly why I resonated so profoundly with this scene) how, in most death scenarios, we will run out of air and we will know it and, more than try to fight it, we'll have to learn how to ride it.
That this scene, the way it's made, with all it's back history, with all the big themes lying about, is placed precisely there, in this way, cannot be a coincidence. Which tells me that the people behind this series (and I'm thinking Ronald D. Moore more than anyone) are truly special.
I'm sure many people, more cultured and educated than myself will look at this series and see a great many shortcomings, perhaps even dangerous things, undercurrent political viewpoints, etc.
I cannot glimpse any of that so much and, what I can it really doesn't contribute very much for any belief change or strengthening.
I just feel that this series was made with great love and is an act of love and a tribute to life itself. Its about us, but it's about so much more than just us.
Anyway. Thanks for listening.
Galactica Actual out.
peace
And I've just finished watching the last three episodes of Battlestar Galactica, the reimagining of, I should say.
There isn't much to tell since it only make sense if you've spent all those hours falling in love with those people on the screen. Never underestimate the power of film, that's the big lesson that once again I've been reminded.
To tell you the truth, it really felt like a part of me died with the last few moments of that series. Even though I know I can revisit it, it doesn't feel that way. It feels as if that cycle is truly gone and lost forever. It's sad but also awakening. It's a big step away from the moment to moment insight meditation, but it carries a similar punch only one given with a slightly different kind of gloves. Much heavier, much slower, likely to stick around for a while longer.
I could tell you a lot on how brilliant I think the plot and the characters were for all this series but I'll spare you the rant.
What really is important is that, through images and sound, a deep feeling of love and compassion arose for what, ultimately, merely happened in my brain. I was being programmed, voluntarily induced to experience the full breadth of human emotions. And by sticking with the ride, by closing the cycle (and I think it particularly important that Laura Roslin is the last person to die on the series and she dies because her lungs fail her), there is something worth being gained. I guess when those lives close ours must come automatically under scrutiny. There's a void now. Perhaps to be filled with a new series. Perhaps not. Perhaps that void can just be there to make itself known. That space used for us to breath into ourselves.
I don't know.
I'm trying to commit words to describe something that I never will. So intimate, so personal, and yet something I know I will share with most humans at some point in our lives.
It's not the words. It's what they hint at.
I guess a lot of people were disappointed with the religious overtones. Especially towards the end. And I can see that and accept that. But, to be perfectly frank, that's missing the point. To me it's not really about religion. Not really. Or, rather, if it is, it's in a very different way that we tend to think about it. I think it's more about what religion does than what religion is. But, in doing so, perhaps hints at what religion would like to be.
This series is woven with such incredible force and yet so much delicacy. That final death was something that filled me so completely. Together with Kara's last scene. Those were the two most important scenes in these final episodes. Perhaps even of the whole series. Because of the simplicity. Because of the beauty. Because of the subliminal depth that they carry.
Kara was the second chance coming to an end without ever coming into full bloom in the love that finally had every possibility laid in front of it. Terribly sad and moving but, as with most of this series, incredibly poignant and appropriate.
And Laura... Laura had always been this strange creature who we'd all like to love but never really could. But she is the epitome (along the old man...) of the true leader. So much so that only with the closeness of death does she allow herself to fully come into being and allow herself to feel. Her death is well staged. We've been hearing about it since day one in the series. She dies throughout the whole scale. And we are dying with her. Perhaps in different ways, but getting closer to that moment as well.
And we all know it. Deep inside of us we do.
And, instead of a big dramatic end, we have simply the very essence of life, air, being slowly taken away from her. Her lungs not being able to cope anymore.
So beautiful and so powerful. I truly have no words to describe it. Because it's bringing us, each and every one of us to the closest thing we will most likely one day know: how it is to run out of air.
It's something I realised very deeply in this last retreat (and undoubtedly why I resonated so profoundly with this scene) how, in most death scenarios, we will run out of air and we will know it and, more than try to fight it, we'll have to learn how to ride it.
That this scene, the way it's made, with all it's back history, with all the big themes lying about, is placed precisely there, in this way, cannot be a coincidence. Which tells me that the people behind this series (and I'm thinking Ronald D. Moore more than anyone) are truly special.
I'm sure many people, more cultured and educated than myself will look at this series and see a great many shortcomings, perhaps even dangerous things, undercurrent political viewpoints, etc.
I cannot glimpse any of that so much and, what I can it really doesn't contribute very much for any belief change or strengthening.
I just feel that this series was made with great love and is an act of love and a tribute to life itself. Its about us, but it's about so much more than just us.
Anyway. Thanks for listening.
Galactica Actual out.
peace
Monday, 8 February 2010
The Gravity of Tales
I've returned from my yearly retreat just a few days ago and I still haven't had time to begin posting stuff. This is one of the catches of going away for a good while: you really get to "go away", mind and body but then, when you come back, there's a ton of stuff to do, happily piling itself, and waiting for you...
So I've been digging through that pile (still of dirty clothes for the most part...) in hopes of returning to the writing element as quickly as possible...
(I want to finish my book!)
But this retreat was quite interesting (not only but, in relation to what I have to say for this post) in terms of writing ideas (they always tend to be).
The difference this year was that, instead of having a whole new bunch of projects, most of the stuff that became clearer was in relation to projects that I've already started.
Which was great! And a big sigh of relief! I already have enough stuff to keep me busy 'till the end of my days...
Still there were a couple of new ideas that I really enjoyed and for which I wrote a bit. One of them was The Great Temple and this is something yuo'll be hearing about in a few days since I'm going to type up what I wrote and start publishing it here, bit by bit. They're all short stories but, since their onset, I saw them more as a crossbreed between the short story and comics. So, it's a kind of an illustrated book. Yet, some pages might just be completely silent, no words, just images, while others can be the opposite.
And in between we'll have a wide array of possibility!
But it was good to experience this. This gravity of tales. These stories that just refuse to go away, even as the years go by. These are the ones I should write I suppose.
So, yet again, this was an incredibly inspiring retreat!
Sometimes I just wish I could stay there for a good long while and just write and write until I'm completely fed up with it...
But it's also good to be back into my comfort zone...
Let's see what will emerge in the next couple of months...
peace
So I've been digging through that pile (still of dirty clothes for the most part...) in hopes of returning to the writing element as quickly as possible...
(I want to finish my book!)
But this retreat was quite interesting (not only but, in relation to what I have to say for this post) in terms of writing ideas (they always tend to be).
The difference this year was that, instead of having a whole new bunch of projects, most of the stuff that became clearer was in relation to projects that I've already started.
Which was great! And a big sigh of relief! I already have enough stuff to keep me busy 'till the end of my days...
Still there were a couple of new ideas that I really enjoyed and for which I wrote a bit. One of them was The Great Temple and this is something yuo'll be hearing about in a few days since I'm going to type up what I wrote and start publishing it here, bit by bit. They're all short stories but, since their onset, I saw them more as a crossbreed between the short story and comics. So, it's a kind of an illustrated book. Yet, some pages might just be completely silent, no words, just images, while others can be the opposite.
And in between we'll have a wide array of possibility!
But it was good to experience this. This gravity of tales. These stories that just refuse to go away, even as the years go by. These are the ones I should write I suppose.
So, yet again, this was an incredibly inspiring retreat!
Sometimes I just wish I could stay there for a good long while and just write and write until I'm completely fed up with it...
But it's also good to be back into my comfort zone...
Let's see what will emerge in the next couple of months...
peace
Tuesday, 5 January 2010
So You Think Comics Are FUN?!
Yes. Well. We've been there haven't we?
And yes, you are correct. Comics are fun!
Here's what I wanna do. I want to continue what I started on that How To Get Hooked On Comics from a while ago.
Shortly after my friend emailed me and he wanted something far more simpler than a history of comics. He wanted no-brainers, pure, relaxing fun.
Obviously, this is a hard question...
But, I shall pool my resources together and see what I can come up with...
In terms of laugh out loud comics my first memorable incursions were Asterix and Tintin. These are still great classics today and I think I will always read them and treasure them. They're a great way of getting into the comics lingo and the huge amounts of slapstick, of catch lines and twists of language are just a pleasure to revisit time and time again.
The same can be said of Calvin and Hobbes, Iznogoud, Léonard, Lucky Luke, Spirou (at least the earliest stuff) and so many others. In fact, in Portugal we are quite lucky because we can just about go to any bookshop and you'll find these titles there. All you need to do is to browse Méribérica- Liber or Edições Asa's catalogues and you'll see lots and lots of stuff.
I love recommending stuff but I also feel that it is very important to engage with what we are looking for. And, in comics, this is particularly easy. You just go and open the page. See if the drawings do something for you. Read a bit of it. It's simple and quick. If it grabs you, it's the right thing. If it doesn't... well, you may be missing out but you can always give it a go at a later date.
This was the first phase, where all the comical stuff came from Europe. There was also some stuff from Disney but, as I found out through the years, most of it actually came from Brasil rather than the USA.
In Marvel and DC Comics humour was never a big part of the strips. In fact, it became less and less so, in all those attempts to make super-heroes real...
But one title comes instantly to my mind.
Lobo.
Lobo was the complete opposite of what was happening with comics at the time. Lobo was pure, raucous fun. Impossibility after impossibility with this mean streaked guy that just liked to get himself into trouble. And, for those of us that loved super-heroes, it was the perfect, never serious deconstruction of the genre.
I don't really remember much else going on. There were the occasional super-heroes that would have some humour to them (Spiderman for instance) but never a truly comical book through and through.
These big companies were always so much more about the drama.
Even a series like Preacher (Garth Ennis and Steve Dillon) in which humour is so important, still has a great deal of drama to it as it is, fundamentally, a story about love and friendship. You can forget about the vampire, the killing, the secret societies, the politics, the religion. It's about people seeing the best and the worst in us and dealing with it, one way or another.
But things have changed in recent years. I guess the industry has started taking itself less seriously (at least part of it...) and we're all the better for it.
One of the great titles (short lasted unfortunately) was Brit, by the almighty Robert Kirkman. Another one of great magnitude was The Pro by Garth Ennis (but if you're afraid of mature content don't even go there...). And the same with the more recent Chronicles of Wormwood also by Ennis. These are two very politically (and religiously and sexually) incorrect books... but they're great fun. For those of us that love north american comics, these kind of settle the score. Too much fun to miss out! Intelligent and unapologetic. And I'll say no more...
I don't have a lot of humorous stuff in my collection. As I said, there isn't that much around. Perhaps because humour tends to be equated with a child-like attitude and that tends to be disassociated with being mature and a responsible adult...
(and to those people I say - read Calvin and Hobbes godsdammit!!!...)
The big surprise in terms of humour (and much more) has come from the east. Japan more specifically.
A while ago I decided to read a couple of manga titles. Serious stuff and etc. But, amidst my "what do you recommend?" explorations there was a title that I kept not having time to read.
GTO - Great Teacher Onizuka.
People raved about it. I didn't have time for the twenty more volumes...
But I did have a chance to read the first three volumes of it for one of the Graphic Novels Reading Group meeting.
And I loved it.
I mean this series is great in many levels.
It's not only a great piece of contemporary comics but humour wise it's as audacious as it is funny!
The plot gyrates around this former bike gang leader that could only find a job as a replacement teacher... so you have a tough, unpolished guy that did all the wrong things at school now becoming the reference for lots of kids... things could only go wrong, right?
Wrong.
Shouldered with that responsibility and being more able to see the kids for who they are and the difficulties that they go through, Onizuka meets headfirst the challenges coming his way.
It's a beautiful series about true compassion, innocence and the ability to go as far as one possibly can to do the right thing.
Add to this the fact that Onizuka is an alien in the school system and you have a series that is at the same time socially relevant and filled with humour and unexpectedness.
It rarely gets better than this...
More recently I dabbled with some more manga.
Namely
Hayate the Combat Buttler, Ouran High School Host Club, Qwan, Blazin' Barrels and King Of Hell.
In all of these the humour element is crucial! In fact, in some of these series, like Hayate or Kind Of Hell it seems to be the major driving force.
I didn't have time to read much of them but they all hooked me pretty easily.
Especially Hayate and King Of Hell.
You can read a brief review of them here.
Other titles that quickly come to mind are Fruits Basket, Love Hina and Oh My Goddess. All of these with a strong romantic aspect to them but still delicious to either read or watch as an anime!
In fact this was one of the things we talked about yesterday in our reading group meeting. How humour seems to be such an integral part of japanese manga, to my mind related to the astounding diversity of genres and themes present, perhaps itself a reflection of their nuclear holocaust (that demanded any mechanisms whatsoever of coping with it).
Something worthwhile discussing though not now and certainly not here.
I know what some of you might be thinking:
"Manga.
It sounds good but for most series you have to read it right to left - opposite to what we are used to."
Sure.
It can be a bit confusing in the first book or so. But you'd be surprised at how quickly you catch the flow.
And trust me, it's well worth the small effort.
"Ok. But supposing that I manage to read it - there're just so many volumes of it!!"
Listen, the only reason you're telling me this is a disadvantage is because you still haven't started reading it.
When you do, you'll be GRATEFUL there's so much GOOD STUFF to read!!
Ok. I don't have much else to say (for now...)
(though I do have the feeling that I've forgotten a lot of great stuff... but it will come in due time...)
If you want you can browse at Tokyopop's catalogue or Viz's catalogue sections dedicated to humour...
I hope you all find the laughs you've been longing for...
Peace!
PS - I didn't talk about The Exterminators or The Goon because I still haven't read them (even though I have them in my shelves...). I could've talked about Chris Ware but his humour is much too bleak for this post and, besides, his comics are tough to read...
PSS - I forgot JACK OF FABLES!!! How could I?! This is my favourite series at the moment!!
Anyway, click here for some reviews...
PSSS - Vimanarama is another great title! Grant Morrison. Bollywood meets super-heroes... 'nough said!
And yes, you are correct. Comics are fun!
Here's what I wanna do. I want to continue what I started on that How To Get Hooked On Comics from a while ago.
Shortly after my friend emailed me and he wanted something far more simpler than a history of comics. He wanted no-brainers, pure, relaxing fun.
Obviously, this is a hard question...
But, I shall pool my resources together and see what I can come up with...
In terms of laugh out loud comics my first memorable incursions were Asterix and Tintin. These are still great classics today and I think I will always read them and treasure them. They're a great way of getting into the comics lingo and the huge amounts of slapstick, of catch lines and twists of language are just a pleasure to revisit time and time again.
The same can be said of Calvin and Hobbes, Iznogoud, Léonard, Lucky Luke, Spirou (at least the earliest stuff) and so many others. In fact, in Portugal we are quite lucky because we can just about go to any bookshop and you'll find these titles there. All you need to do is to browse Méribérica- Liber or Edições Asa's catalogues and you'll see lots and lots of stuff.
I love recommending stuff but I also feel that it is very important to engage with what we are looking for. And, in comics, this is particularly easy. You just go and open the page. See if the drawings do something for you. Read a bit of it. It's simple and quick. If it grabs you, it's the right thing. If it doesn't... well, you may be missing out but you can always give it a go at a later date.
This was the first phase, where all the comical stuff came from Europe. There was also some stuff from Disney but, as I found out through the years, most of it actually came from Brasil rather than the USA.
In Marvel and DC Comics humour was never a big part of the strips. In fact, it became less and less so, in all those attempts to make super-heroes real...
But one title comes instantly to my mind.
Lobo.
Lobo was the complete opposite of what was happening with comics at the time. Lobo was pure, raucous fun. Impossibility after impossibility with this mean streaked guy that just liked to get himself into trouble. And, for those of us that loved super-heroes, it was the perfect, never serious deconstruction of the genre.
I don't really remember much else going on. There were the occasional super-heroes that would have some humour to them (Spiderman for instance) but never a truly comical book through and through.
These big companies were always so much more about the drama.
Even a series like Preacher (Garth Ennis and Steve Dillon) in which humour is so important, still has a great deal of drama to it as it is, fundamentally, a story about love and friendship. You can forget about the vampire, the killing, the secret societies, the politics, the religion. It's about people seeing the best and the worst in us and dealing with it, one way or another.
But things have changed in recent years. I guess the industry has started taking itself less seriously (at least part of it...) and we're all the better for it.
One of the great titles (short lasted unfortunately) was Brit, by the almighty Robert Kirkman. Another one of great magnitude was The Pro by Garth Ennis (but if you're afraid of mature content don't even go there...). And the same with the more recent Chronicles of Wormwood also by Ennis. These are two very politically (and religiously and sexually) incorrect books... but they're great fun. For those of us that love north american comics, these kind of settle the score. Too much fun to miss out! Intelligent and unapologetic. And I'll say no more...
I don't have a lot of humorous stuff in my collection. As I said, there isn't that much around. Perhaps because humour tends to be equated with a child-like attitude and that tends to be disassociated with being mature and a responsible adult...
(and to those people I say - read Calvin and Hobbes godsdammit!!!...)
The big surprise in terms of humour (and much more) has come from the east. Japan more specifically.
A while ago I decided to read a couple of manga titles. Serious stuff and etc. But, amidst my "what do you recommend?" explorations there was a title that I kept not having time to read.
GTO - Great Teacher Onizuka.
People raved about it. I didn't have time for the twenty more volumes...
But I did have a chance to read the first three volumes of it for one of the Graphic Novels Reading Group meeting.
And I loved it.
I mean this series is great in many levels.
It's not only a great piece of contemporary comics but humour wise it's as audacious as it is funny!
The plot gyrates around this former bike gang leader that could only find a job as a replacement teacher... so you have a tough, unpolished guy that did all the wrong things at school now becoming the reference for lots of kids... things could only go wrong, right?
Wrong.
Shouldered with that responsibility and being more able to see the kids for who they are and the difficulties that they go through, Onizuka meets headfirst the challenges coming his way.
It's a beautiful series about true compassion, innocence and the ability to go as far as one possibly can to do the right thing.
Add to this the fact that Onizuka is an alien in the school system and you have a series that is at the same time socially relevant and filled with humour and unexpectedness.
It rarely gets better than this...
More recently I dabbled with some more manga.
Namely
Hayate the Combat Buttler, Ouran High School Host Club, Qwan, Blazin' Barrels and King Of Hell.
In all of these the humour element is crucial! In fact, in some of these series, like Hayate or Kind Of Hell it seems to be the major driving force.
I didn't have time to read much of them but they all hooked me pretty easily.
Especially Hayate and King Of Hell.
You can read a brief review of them here.
Other titles that quickly come to mind are Fruits Basket, Love Hina and Oh My Goddess. All of these with a strong romantic aspect to them but still delicious to either read or watch as an anime!
In fact this was one of the things we talked about yesterday in our reading group meeting. How humour seems to be such an integral part of japanese manga, to my mind related to the astounding diversity of genres and themes present, perhaps itself a reflection of their nuclear holocaust (that demanded any mechanisms whatsoever of coping with it).
Something worthwhile discussing though not now and certainly not here.
I know what some of you might be thinking:
"Manga.
It sounds good but for most series you have to read it right to left - opposite to what we are used to."
Sure.
It can be a bit confusing in the first book or so. But you'd be surprised at how quickly you catch the flow.
And trust me, it's well worth the small effort.
"Ok. But supposing that I manage to read it - there're just so many volumes of it!!"
Listen, the only reason you're telling me this is a disadvantage is because you still haven't started reading it.
When you do, you'll be GRATEFUL there's so much GOOD STUFF to read!!
Ok. I don't have much else to say (for now...)
(though I do have the feeling that I've forgotten a lot of great stuff... but it will come in due time...)
If you want you can browse at Tokyopop's catalogue or Viz's catalogue sections dedicated to humour...
I hope you all find the laughs you've been longing for...
Peace!
PS - I didn't talk about The Exterminators or The Goon because I still haven't read them (even though I have them in my shelves...). I could've talked about Chris Ware but his humour is much too bleak for this post and, besides, his comics are tough to read...
PSS - I forgot JACK OF FABLES!!! How could I?! This is my favourite series at the moment!!
Anyway, click here for some reviews...
PSSS - Vimanarama is another great title! Grant Morrison. Bollywood meets super-heroes... 'nough said!
Thursday, 31 December 2009
Legacy
This was the short story I had initially intended to send to the New Scientist competition. It just came to me in a big, widescreen shot of mountains and snow. I could see an older man and a youth, climbing, straining. But something seemed of somehow.
And I just needed to find out what...
Enjoy!
LEGACY
(349 word count)
“’tis said that only from the shoulder of Durak-Nur can the world be seen.” The man paused to catch his breath. Then tugged at his long furry coat.
“That from its head one can know the truth. Merge with the Originator. And the Death Giver.”
The boy looked at him. Then at the gigantic mountains in the distance.
“You have reached the age.” Said the man. “Your father will be proud when we return.”
“But why did we have to come here?” enquired the boy. “Couldn’t we have climbed some other mountain? One closer to home?”
“No!” Said the man sternly. “In the Durak range there are no mountains.”
“But-“
The man exhaled steam while indicating the region all around them. “This is why we have brought you to the Durak-Nur, the first of the seven. What you mistake for mountains were not made by the fires of the Earth alone but had the almighty yielding hand of our ancestors. They’re machines.”
The boy strained his eye, trying to reason out the shapes buried underneath the snow.
“This is why we come. To pay tribute and homage to that long gone golden age. When the old ones could rip open the belly of the Earth to carve mighty engines. Able of planting whole forests in a day. Walking across the mighty Lamtik Ocean. And war the demon god Klaymma Tchang, the destroyer. The hungry god Ozuor that rose the seas and killed our ancestors. That bent event the winds to his command.”
The man placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“We have brought you here so that you can see that the legends are true. That millennia ago our people ruled the whole of Earth. That the star metal shines still today, hidden in the snow. To show you the lost city of Nur. Where thousands upon thousands lived when the Durak still roamed free, saving the world from total destruction.”
The man’s eyes shone with ancient glory.
“We have brought you here for you to pay homage to long gone ancestors.” He said.
“And become their legacy.”
END
Of all the stories that I wrote for the competition this is really the only one I'd like to explore further. All others are pretty much self contained, but this one... this one just keeps sneaking under the radar. It kept coming to my attention over and over again and, at every step of the way, something new would come out of it.
So, I've taken notes for what I could still do with it and, maybe one day...
In any case, this was the story that was the hardest to write. I wrote four different versions. And I worked on all four of them.
I got the idea right on the first go but not the tone and the mood - which was the most important part of it. I wanted to insinuate, to stimulate the imagination, more than tell people's minds what to visualise.
It was also a mini-tribute to that writer extraordinaire, that writer of writers, Gene Wolfe. I just kept thinking about his style, the way he builds things for you in such a precise way and yet, when you go back and re-read it, it seems as if only vague glimpses were given. What we saw, we made it all up.
Anyway, I really like this story and that's why I saved it to be the last one posted here.
Hope you've enjoyed them!
Peace
And I just needed to find out what...
Enjoy!
LEGACY
(349 word count)
“’tis said that only from the shoulder of Durak-Nur can the world be seen.” The man paused to catch his breath. Then tugged at his long furry coat.
“That from its head one can know the truth. Merge with the Originator. And the Death Giver.”
The boy looked at him. Then at the gigantic mountains in the distance.
“You have reached the age.” Said the man. “Your father will be proud when we return.”
“But why did we have to come here?” enquired the boy. “Couldn’t we have climbed some other mountain? One closer to home?”
“No!” Said the man sternly. “In the Durak range there are no mountains.”
“But-“
The man exhaled steam while indicating the region all around them. “This is why we have brought you to the Durak-Nur, the first of the seven. What you mistake for mountains were not made by the fires of the Earth alone but had the almighty yielding hand of our ancestors. They’re machines.”
The boy strained his eye, trying to reason out the shapes buried underneath the snow.
“This is why we come. To pay tribute and homage to that long gone golden age. When the old ones could rip open the belly of the Earth to carve mighty engines. Able of planting whole forests in a day. Walking across the mighty Lamtik Ocean. And war the demon god Klaymma Tchang, the destroyer. The hungry god Ozuor that rose the seas and killed our ancestors. That bent event the winds to his command.”
The man placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“We have brought you here so that you can see that the legends are true. That millennia ago our people ruled the whole of Earth. That the star metal shines still today, hidden in the snow. To show you the lost city of Nur. Where thousands upon thousands lived when the Durak still roamed free, saving the world from total destruction.”
The man’s eyes shone with ancient glory.
“We have brought you here for you to pay homage to long gone ancestors.” He said.
“And become their legacy.”
END
Of all the stories that I wrote for the competition this is really the only one I'd like to explore further. All others are pretty much self contained, but this one... this one just keeps sneaking under the radar. It kept coming to my attention over and over again and, at every step of the way, something new would come out of it.
So, I've taken notes for what I could still do with it and, maybe one day...
In any case, this was the story that was the hardest to write. I wrote four different versions. And I worked on all four of them.
I got the idea right on the first go but not the tone and the mood - which was the most important part of it. I wanted to insinuate, to stimulate the imagination, more than tell people's minds what to visualise.
It was also a mini-tribute to that writer extraordinaire, that writer of writers, Gene Wolfe. I just kept thinking about his style, the way he builds things for you in such a precise way and yet, when you go back and re-read it, it seems as if only vague glimpses were given. What we saw, we made it all up.
Anyway, I really like this story and that's why I saved it to be the last one posted here.
Hope you've enjoyed them!
Peace
The Perfect Listener
Being here, writing here, is just like being in bed with the perfect listener. That absolute lover that takes more from you than just your body. Takes in your words, keeping them in the heart, echoing you.
It's what it feels sometimes. Especially like now, in the dead of night (actually, it's the very much alive of night...), where words seem clearer and more profound. Especially after Elegy.
I forgot to mention that the film is based on one of Philip Roth's books.
It is directed by a woman.
Perhaps that is why there is so much subtlety and sensitivity in it.
I hope we will more of this type of cinema in the future.
It is crucial that we recapture our true nature.
So, perfect listener, wherever you are, whoever you may be, I hope that you feel comfortable in this bed.
Even though virtual, it's warm and welcoming.
May our hearts be like this also, everyday of our lives.
Peace.
It's what it feels sometimes. Especially like now, in the dead of night (actually, it's the very much alive of night...), where words seem clearer and more profound. Especially after Elegy.
I forgot to mention that the film is based on one of Philip Roth's books.
It is directed by a woman.
Perhaps that is why there is so much subtlety and sensitivity in it.
I hope we will more of this type of cinema in the future.
It is crucial that we recapture our true nature.
So, perfect listener, wherever you are, whoever you may be, I hope that you feel comfortable in this bed.
Even though virtual, it's warm and welcoming.
May our hearts be like this also, everyday of our lives.
Peace.
Elegy
This is the title of the film I just saw.
It's two-thirty am and I should be going to bed, meditate a bit before I fall asleep and yet, here I am, thinking, not to worry, I'll manage with just four or five hours sleep.
It's a story I've been telling myself for many years now and yet, in situations like these, when I'm compelled to stay awake to write something, I often do not regret it afterwards.
It's feeling like that that I am here.
I'm listening to Clock DVA and thinking about what I wanted to say about this film as soon as it ended.
(I cried, of course I cried)
The main theme of the film struck home in a big way. No because I identify with the main character (even though I did so much in the past) but because I know of many people in that situation (most humans I would say) and one in particular. She's now twelve and struggling with a lot of things. Like you're supposed to when you're that young.
The film ended and I found myself thinking that I would've liked to have seen this film with her. To see her imbued with the feelings and everything that the film evokes in us. I think she would get. At least she would identify with that hunger for life but, at the same time, the fear of it.
That's Ben Kingsley's character. He is a man at the end of his life, too afraid to let go of all the repressions he has absorbed throughout his life to actually see what is in front of him. His dream. A beautiful young woman that truly loves him. She, so much younger than him, can see it. And she wants to help him to come out of his hardened mind that doesn't allow his heart to breathe. But he has a lifetime of fears, a lifetime of misconceptions and self protection.
I think he sees all this, but what makes him even more brilliant as a character is that he cannot let go of what he so desperately wants to get rid of about himself.
I think he is a powerful metaphor for humanity.
Actually, he is more than a metaphor. He is real. He is inside everyone of us. He is me and you whenever we surrender to our fear for no good reason but out of fear itself.
And how does all of this connect to a twelve year old girl?
The same way it would've connected to a twelve year old boy some 22 years ago.
It would've connected with that boy at that time because already there and then he was fascinated with the provinces of the mind. He was fascinated with art and science and people and everything he saw and welcomed inside him. Young people are like this, even when they don't fully know it.
He was fascinated with everything and he wanted to know everything. He knew it was a quimeric obsession, something that, in reality, somewhere inside of him, he knew it would be impossible to achieve but that, nonetheless, remained, increasingly powerful, increasingly magnetic and alluring.
He was fascinated with all these things but I don't think he really knew why he was fascinated. Things were just fascinating.
Yet, at the same time he began to realise that what he wanted was to know life, in its deepest, in it's fullest, so he could live it in precisely that way. In it's deepest. In it's fullest.
Can you blame him?
I do not.
I call him smart. Ambitious, perhaps even arrogant, but smart nonetheless.
I still think it's a good idea. To outwit life. To know early on the way you'll probably feel when you know you don't have much more time to live.
This was actually an exercise that I did (and sometimes still do) many times in the past.
"If I were to die tomorrow would it have been a good life? What would I regret? What have I missed?"
The answers to this were often surprising. Many times (not to say always) extremely important.
With the years I have found that my regret levels have diminished considerably and that I haven't missed much of the things I would've liked to have done.
That's simply because I am doing them now.
It does help.
Just today I was talking with a friend of mine and we ended up reaching this simple and yet so crucial conclusion that young people aren't stupid and that they actually know what they're doing.
(I guess myself and my friend both felt not listened to when we were younger so we can relate to this, even if a few decades have passed in the meantime)
(and by the way, I always dreamt about writing stuff like this when I was twelve. Go figure...)
I think it's quite brave and intelligent to try and find out what life means to us as quickly as possible. That way, hopefully, we will be able to enjoy it to the fullest as soon as possible.
When I was a teenager I used to dream about having the experience of an old man in a teenage body (and this has been the theme of many of my stories. Perhaps in disguise, but it's there).
There was a phrase that my father's uncle used every single time we went to visit him in Lisbon. It was something like
"Now that I' ready to die, I am ready to start living."
It's a bitter affirmation of disappointment towards one's life. This phrase became engraved in my mind. I could feel the taste of fear and pain that it held underneath the words. It weren't just the words you see. There were sights. And smells. And tones. Things that however many words we might use, we will never truly describe.
And, as soon as the meaning of this phrase became clear to me, I vowed to live a life that would NOT end up in this way. I wanted to end my life saying, I've lived my life and I am ready to die. I have done all I've wanted to.
There is a very powerful phrase in this film, it goes something like
"Man's biggest surprise in life is old age."
I understood this at the age of twelve but the understanding I have now is that of a twelve year old with twenty two more years of experience. An understanding of someone who already has some measure of knowledge of what it means your body growing old.
This is one of the big reasons why I believe this film is an important one. The sooner we become acquainted with life the better.
There are a couple of very important lines in this film about this.
In one scene Ben is saying that
"we've spent our whole life acting like teenagers."
He's not referring to clothes or going to parties, but rather in the sense of not knowing how to be fully responsible for one's own life.
I mean, let's face it, life is what we do everyday and yet, there is so little teaching about it imparted from other people. We have our parents. We have our grandparents. We have our friends. But, not always the wisdom they have to give us is enough to steady us in our path.and, to this I say, recognise them as fellow travellers in this mysterious road and chide them not for their blame. Life just happens.
On another scene Ben is talking to his oldest friend (played by Dennis Hopper) and he says something like
"It's time to grow up. Not just grow old."
Again he is alluding to that most precious of lessons that this film is trying to impart on us. A lesson in responsibility.
But a responsibility that has nothing to do with returning our assignments on time or know how to comment a work of art in an appropriate manner.
But rather a responsibility to the way we feel. A responsibility towards the heart. A responsibility that is unconditional and non-judgmental.
This is something very hard to achieve.
Our inner truth.
That's the only thing we've been striving for all our lives. That is certainly what Ben's character fails to accept, see, BECOME at every step of his path.
Yet, Penelope Cruz's character, some thirty odd years younger, she sees it so clearly.
More. SHE IS IT.
And this haunts him. This taunts him. This lures him as much as it frightens him. She is truly his Holy Grail. And in more ways that just this one. She is complete.
And she is complete because she is FULLY herself.
There's no holding back.
It's just take it or leave it. Like a child.
And it's through that innocence, that incredible, mature spontaneity that her beauty truly shines through.
This is the lesson they both learn in fact. But him, a lot more than her.
Still, the important thing is that they do learn it. And that they share this.
This is actually all plainly told in the film. They each go through their own masks and, what they find is simply what they always had known was there.
And why had they always know it?
Simple.
Because they had feared it.
Anyway, you know how sometimes you just wish people would change, realise this or that in order for them to become so much more fully what you feel and know in your bones that they are, but you don't know how to?
Well, this is one of those films that gives you this trust that, if they did watch it, they'd get it. Just the way you got. And that impression, that lasting impression that it left on you, would be theirs as well. And, the next time you saw them, they would be a few steps further in their own path. Perhaps a bit closer to you as well. For truly, this is the one thing you want to share.
Peace
It's two-thirty am and I should be going to bed, meditate a bit before I fall asleep and yet, here I am, thinking, not to worry, I'll manage with just four or five hours sleep.
It's a story I've been telling myself for many years now and yet, in situations like these, when I'm compelled to stay awake to write something, I often do not regret it afterwards.
It's feeling like that that I am here.
I'm listening to Clock DVA and thinking about what I wanted to say about this film as soon as it ended.
(I cried, of course I cried)
The main theme of the film struck home in a big way. No because I identify with the main character (even though I did so much in the past) but because I know of many people in that situation (most humans I would say) and one in particular. She's now twelve and struggling with a lot of things. Like you're supposed to when you're that young.
The film ended and I found myself thinking that I would've liked to have seen this film with her. To see her imbued with the feelings and everything that the film evokes in us. I think she would get. At least she would identify with that hunger for life but, at the same time, the fear of it.
That's Ben Kingsley's character. He is a man at the end of his life, too afraid to let go of all the repressions he has absorbed throughout his life to actually see what is in front of him. His dream. A beautiful young woman that truly loves him. She, so much younger than him, can see it. And she wants to help him to come out of his hardened mind that doesn't allow his heart to breathe. But he has a lifetime of fears, a lifetime of misconceptions and self protection.
I think he sees all this, but what makes him even more brilliant as a character is that he cannot let go of what he so desperately wants to get rid of about himself.
I think he is a powerful metaphor for humanity.
Actually, he is more than a metaphor. He is real. He is inside everyone of us. He is me and you whenever we surrender to our fear for no good reason but out of fear itself.
And how does all of this connect to a twelve year old girl?
The same way it would've connected to a twelve year old boy some 22 years ago.
It would've connected with that boy at that time because already there and then he was fascinated with the provinces of the mind. He was fascinated with art and science and people and everything he saw and welcomed inside him. Young people are like this, even when they don't fully know it.
He was fascinated with everything and he wanted to know everything. He knew it was a quimeric obsession, something that, in reality, somewhere inside of him, he knew it would be impossible to achieve but that, nonetheless, remained, increasingly powerful, increasingly magnetic and alluring.
He was fascinated with all these things but I don't think he really knew why he was fascinated. Things were just fascinating.
Yet, at the same time he began to realise that what he wanted was to know life, in its deepest, in it's fullest, so he could live it in precisely that way. In it's deepest. In it's fullest.
Can you blame him?
I do not.
I call him smart. Ambitious, perhaps even arrogant, but smart nonetheless.
I still think it's a good idea. To outwit life. To know early on the way you'll probably feel when you know you don't have much more time to live.
This was actually an exercise that I did (and sometimes still do) many times in the past.
"If I were to die tomorrow would it have been a good life? What would I regret? What have I missed?"
The answers to this were often surprising. Many times (not to say always) extremely important.
With the years I have found that my regret levels have diminished considerably and that I haven't missed much of the things I would've liked to have done.
That's simply because I am doing them now.
It does help.
Just today I was talking with a friend of mine and we ended up reaching this simple and yet so crucial conclusion that young people aren't stupid and that they actually know what they're doing.
(I guess myself and my friend both felt not listened to when we were younger so we can relate to this, even if a few decades have passed in the meantime)
(and by the way, I always dreamt about writing stuff like this when I was twelve. Go figure...)
I think it's quite brave and intelligent to try and find out what life means to us as quickly as possible. That way, hopefully, we will be able to enjoy it to the fullest as soon as possible.
When I was a teenager I used to dream about having the experience of an old man in a teenage body (and this has been the theme of many of my stories. Perhaps in disguise, but it's there).
There was a phrase that my father's uncle used every single time we went to visit him in Lisbon. It was something like
"Now that I' ready to die, I am ready to start living."
It's a bitter affirmation of disappointment towards one's life. This phrase became engraved in my mind. I could feel the taste of fear and pain that it held underneath the words. It weren't just the words you see. There were sights. And smells. And tones. Things that however many words we might use, we will never truly describe.
And, as soon as the meaning of this phrase became clear to me, I vowed to live a life that would NOT end up in this way. I wanted to end my life saying, I've lived my life and I am ready to die. I have done all I've wanted to.
There is a very powerful phrase in this film, it goes something like
"Man's biggest surprise in life is old age."
I understood this at the age of twelve but the understanding I have now is that of a twelve year old with twenty two more years of experience. An understanding of someone who already has some measure of knowledge of what it means your body growing old.
This is one of the big reasons why I believe this film is an important one. The sooner we become acquainted with life the better.
There are a couple of very important lines in this film about this.
In one scene Ben is saying that
"we've spent our whole life acting like teenagers."
He's not referring to clothes or going to parties, but rather in the sense of not knowing how to be fully responsible for one's own life.
I mean, let's face it, life is what we do everyday and yet, there is so little teaching about it imparted from other people. We have our parents. We have our grandparents. We have our friends. But, not always the wisdom they have to give us is enough to steady us in our path.and, to this I say, recognise them as fellow travellers in this mysterious road and chide them not for their blame. Life just happens.
On another scene Ben is talking to his oldest friend (played by Dennis Hopper) and he says something like
"It's time to grow up. Not just grow old."
Again he is alluding to that most precious of lessons that this film is trying to impart on us. A lesson in responsibility.
But a responsibility that has nothing to do with returning our assignments on time or know how to comment a work of art in an appropriate manner.
But rather a responsibility to the way we feel. A responsibility towards the heart. A responsibility that is unconditional and non-judgmental.
This is something very hard to achieve.
Our inner truth.
That's the only thing we've been striving for all our lives. That is certainly what Ben's character fails to accept, see, BECOME at every step of his path.
Yet, Penelope Cruz's character, some thirty odd years younger, she sees it so clearly.
More. SHE IS IT.
And this haunts him. This taunts him. This lures him as much as it frightens him. She is truly his Holy Grail. And in more ways that just this one. She is complete.
And she is complete because she is FULLY herself.
There's no holding back.
It's just take it or leave it. Like a child.
And it's through that innocence, that incredible, mature spontaneity that her beauty truly shines through.
This is the lesson they both learn in fact. But him, a lot more than her.
Still, the important thing is that they do learn it. And that they share this.
This is actually all plainly told in the film. They each go through their own masks and, what they find is simply what they always had known was there.
And why had they always know it?
Simple.
Because they had feared it.
Anyway, you know how sometimes you just wish people would change, realise this or that in order for them to become so much more fully what you feel and know in your bones that they are, but you don't know how to?
Well, this is one of those films that gives you this trust that, if they did watch it, they'd get it. Just the way you got. And that impression, that lasting impression that it left on you, would be theirs as well. And, the next time you saw them, they would be a few steps further in their own path. Perhaps a bit closer to you as well. For truly, this is the one thing you want to share.
Peace
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
