Gaia: DIVING DEEPER: A Writing Workshop - Responses to Assignments

album cover assignment - starling

http://quietlaughter.gaia.com — Sat, 31 Oct 2009 19:02:34 GMT

Starling

“…in constant repair” she wrote. The letter sat unfinished in front of Mai. She held the pen between her fingers, poised to continue. Mai tapped the pen on the wood tabletop, not knowing how to continue. She sat in the silent room waiting, and then the words started to come…

In constant repair
I am calling to you
Opened to the point of breaking
My heart is here
Set out for you, waiting

Somewhere in my dreams
You came to me
Whispered the words
To guide me
To hold me up
And hold me still

In constant repair
After the storms have passed
Wandering in the dark streets
Lost in the winding maze
I need you to come for me
take me home
take me home
take me home

Mai stopped writing. She picked up the vanilla coloured paper and crumpled into a tight ball. She threw it across the room. The paper landed with a soft plock onto the pile that sat beside the empty trash bin. Mai sighed. Justin walked into the room.

‘How’s the writing going?” he asked. Mai’s brother looked at the mountain of crushed paper and smirked. “Looks like you killed a tree already”

“Shut up Justin. What do you want?” Mai snapped. Justin threw up his hands in defence.

“Hey take it easy. Just because you’re frustrated don’t take it out on me” he said. Mai took a deep breath and sighed.

“Sorry, it’s… it is frustrating as hell. There is something there, waiting to be written but I just can’t make it come out.” Mai buried her head into her arms. She heard Justin walk up to the table and put his hand on her back between her shoulder blades.

“Well, worrying about it isn’t going to help. Why don’t we go out and see a movie or do something? You need to take a break.” He said. Mai looked up at him and saw him nod towards the pile of failed starts.

“Maybe, but I need to write this… “ she said pushing out her bottom lip.

“Yeah but you need to live too. Come on – you’ve been doing this for hours, take a break.” Justin insisted.

“Alright, get my coat. We can cut through the park. I need some fresh air.” Mai said, giving in. Justin was right, she thought, the story would come when it was ready to and the best thing was to get out. Justin flashed a grin and disappeared to the front hall closet. Mai heard him rummaging around when the phone rang. She picked up the receiver and tucked it in the crook of her neck, as she bent down to pull on her shoes.

“Hello?” Mai said. The line was full of static and crackled in her ear. There was a loud snap and a screech of digital sound. Mai thought suddenly that someone was trying to send her a fax, though she had no fax machine. A wrong number probably...

“Hello?” she said again. There was no response. Mai shrugged and put down the phone. Justin came back into the room carrying Mai’s red pea coat and scarf.

“Who was that?” he asked, draping the coat over the back of the overstuffed armchair at the doorway.
“Wrong number I guess.” Mai said. She stood up and straightened her sweater. She shrugged on her coat and was tying the scarf when the phone rang again. She picked up the receiver again and answered.

“Hello?” she said into the mouth piece. The same static roared into her ear. Mai held the receiver away from her ear.

“Ow!” she said. Justin looked at her concerned. She covered part of the phone with one hand and whispered to him.

“Same static. Must be the same person again” she said. She listened to the call again. This time she heard a faint voice through the popping static. Mai could barely make out what the person was saying.

“You are going to have to speak up I can hardly hear you!” she said. The line hissed even louder. Mai made a face at Justin, who shrugged. The voice on the other end of the line suddenly came through clearly.

“Help me. I’m bleeding. There’s been an accident. She’s dead. I can’t reach her. We are on…” a woman’s voice pleaded. The static over powered the line again before she could finish. Mai’s stomach dropped.

“What? Who is this? Who’s dead?” Mai said quickly. Justin came over and stood beside her.

“Justin, I can’t hear her. Can you check the other phone? Maybe her number is on the display.” Mai said, she held up her hand before Justin could say anything. “Hello? Please? I need to know where you are so we can send help” Justin came back with the other phone. He showed it to Mai. The number was unknown. He turned on the phone and listened while Mai strained to hear the woman’s voice.

“….. fallen trees… side of the highway… ravine.” The voice continued. The static made it impossible to hear every word.

“Please say it again we can’t hear you” Mai said. Suddenly the line went dead.

“NO!” Mai said. Justin put down the phone in his hand, and took Mai’s. He punched the buttons hoping to be able to redial. Mai slumped and sank down onto the sofa while Justin tried to call back.

“Dammit. Can’t call back.” He said. “What are we going to do?” Mai looked at him blankly.

“I don’t know. What can we do?” she asked. A feeling of dread crawled over her. “Wait until she calls back.” Justin looked at her. Worry etched into his face.

“If she calls back.” He said.

...

Assignment - Album Cover ~ Oberstaufenbach

http://azyh.gaia.com — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 10:28:56 GMT

Oberstaufenbach

in bad company it rains like a storm from the story of oz
at first a light pitter patter and cool air
a turn of light to dark
the wind picks up and it begins to feel not ok
the rain comes down harder and harder and begins to fly side ways
everything is wet
the upside of the under eves wall even
the smell of cool mist is replaced with the zing of static
that electric metallic taste
then the pellets of ice drum out the coming crash of thunder
like sheets of wind passing in a wave of sound that orchestra building a crescendo
the cadence matched by the lighting flashing a strobe of silhouettes
to the walls and windows
glass giggling
maybe it will hold out and hold in
the air inside feels stale and still
the urge to open a door just a little
just a bit to look and breathe it in
then a gust rips the edge away from my fingers
and the door slams back while the storm shoves into the room
swimming in wet light and hungry for a still space
a still place
a quiet warm blanket wear it can lay down a moment
lay down a drop
and just be
a drop into quiet
frozen still
too scared to melt away
holding the stillness with a perfect mirror
bad company just barged right in and laid right down
a sparrow to light
almost gone out with fright
but here you lay tonight
on my blanket of home
wait wait
she's never gone
she's laying right here
on my blanket of home
show show
that shine of wrong
it's gone away
a melted storm
shine shine
your way to strong
it's in the end
a life too long

don't you know its time to rest?
Where did you last progress?
Forsake it all and breathe
forsake it all and leave

the storm was nothing but all flash and noise
the sky was wanting a rainbow dress
if you looked over the guide for love
you would have seen past the mess

forsake it all and leave
forsake it all and grieve

the drop of your heart is here
on my blanket of home

Re: Anonymous Assignment - I don't want to write about this

http://GabrieleStehle.gaia.com — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 12:32:02 GMT

With a little distance I realize that there are some things to be said about the writing I forgot to mention, because I was so engaged with the characters. Which in itself is telling a lot about the writing already. Convincing, gripping, evoking emotional response and leaving me wanting to know more. Very well done.

If this is part of a longer story, I definitely would need somebody elses perspective in addition to the I-character. This is a very strong, persuasive voice which is convinced things are the way s/he sees them and leaves me wanting to draw my own conclusions. Which in itself is a great tool for both, showing someone by what they don't say or don't look at, and for keeping the reader wanting to learn more and hear somebody elses side of the story.

I have said to your daughter that I am not angry. I lied. I am angry. I am also afraid, sad, shocked and undone.

This is interesting because it's one of the rare occasions where the I-character talks about him- or herself, about their emotions and I'd love to hear more about this. But at the same time it might be exactly the way this character functions, to not say any more, and therefore we'd need somebody elses perspective to get a bigger picture of what is going on here.

You preached all of those words – crammed the books down other people’s throats, demanded that they listen to you, do what you said…. But never have you done what you have said… never. I understand the fear, the anger that boils inside of you, the fear that drives you to push everyone away, to lash out and to refuse to face what is happening right now. I understand. I just don’t agree.I am angry.

This is great, here I get the anger in the words and in the projection on the other before it is even named.

I want to write the truth to you, and you can do what you want with it. I just need to say it.

The truth is – you are very ill.

Again a fascinating bit of information. The truth the I-character has to share is about someone else. We get a good sense of the I-character here by paradox. What a wonderful way actually to show the mind process of a character! Very inspiring.

What has to happen will – and has. The walls that you have been building are thick and high now. Before you cut yourself off from the light, I hope that you can hear just a word or two. I believe that there is always going to be a chance to choose to be happy, to find that peace within and live from that place.

The writing is beautiful and I am totally convinced of this character. The line of thinking is familiar, it is a part probably most of us can find in themselves and at the same time see how limiting and manipulative this point of view can get. It would be fascinating and thrilling, I'm sure, to see these convictions and certainties of the I-character shaken and challenged by an antigonist, which could be another character or some sort of event or crisis. Did I say I can easily see this as NaNoWriMo material??! ;)

I find this piece immensely inspiring, not only because of the heart breaking story we can sense in this beginning, but also because it opens up a possibility of character development that is not easy to do but holds a great challenge and immense promise.

Re: Anonymous Assignment - I don't want to write about this

http://GabrieleStehle.gaia.com — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 10:54:14 GMT

I like that thought, Peter! From that perspective the reations of the 'you-'character don't seem as something being wrong with him but rather the way he reacts to life's disappointment and disease, in a way that maybe is his only way. A way that obviously hurts others and keeps them away.

I find the writing touching but at the same time I feel some reluctance to identify with the I-character's perspective. I want to know more about this person. The I-character has a very solid opinion of what is going on. S/he comes across as someone who likes to analyze and define people and even though seemingly wanting the best there is something that feels like a narrow view point. I would love to see this person from someone elses point of view!

It would also be interesting to climb inside the 'you'-character and get his experience. I'd love the story to dive deeply into how it feels to walk in his shoes as well and maybe get a perspective that to him is as right to him and as inevitably connected to his personality as the I-character's is to them.

I get the sense that there is a story of every day life tragedy here, a mirror of things going wrong in families and relationships on the background of beliefs and expectations, disappointments and hopes, love and resentment and failed communication... wonderful material to expand on!

A very promising beginning, I'd say, worth exploring deeper and maybe opening up more points of view to make the complexity of what is going on visible. Could be NaNoWriMo material!

:)

Re: What you don't want to write about: Dearest K

http://GabrieleStehle.gaia.com — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 10:37:12 GMT

Ruth, I had the same sense of complexity and that this story, in one way or another, will one day be told in detail. A complete novel waiting to happen, or that is how I read it.

Beautifully written, complex, evoking emotional responses of sadness, compassion and a sense of the tragic humanness of all these characters and interactions... wonderful material, painfully beautiful and deep.

Re: Memories of the forgotten moment...

http://GabrieleStehle.gaia.com — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 10:26:49 GMT

Hello master-architect,

I have been pulled in strongly by the first sentence and the first third of the text. There is something surrealistic about all the different places and images, I don't fully get it, but it's fascinating to follow the voice in what feels like a very free flow of consciousness.

I also found it interesting to follow the stream of thoughts and questions. Again I didn't understand everything fully, but I enjoyed the flow of language and thoughts and questioning very much. An interesting piece! Something that goes against my reading habits. It's rather an essay then a story, so I had to get into a different mode of perception and I liked that.

Re: Anonymous Assignment - I don't want to write about this

http://cleaningdishes.gaia.com — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 03:07:07 GMT

This piece is a sad one. I get the feeling that the person whos dying is listening to his animal instincts, something primal deep within him. For example , an animal when it knows it's going to die, or if very ill, will find a place where it can be alone and undisturbed. Animals perfer to die alone it seems.

Peter

Re: Assignment - what you don't want to write about ~ the next on

http://nestingwave.gaia.com — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 18:09:36 GMT

Dear Azyh

"Information field?" -- "Bilogy of Belief?" -- you know exactly what I am talking about. Indeed, some of us have found that it is very possible to heal your physical and energetic bodies with "cell talk." Yes, it works. Very easy. You already do it but only need to send the right messages and cancel the ones which are confusing and inappropriate. That's the challenge, eh?

So, you not only know about these things but grok them? I suspected such. That's why it emerged from me in the first place. Somehow, I knew you would get it.

This specific information has not yet reached the educational systems, since all "scientific" textbooks must now be rewritten.

I continued this message but it became a lengthy essay, so I posted it up on my blog for all to see.

CLICK HERE

Namaste,

Rob

Anonymous Assignment - I don't want to write about this

http://sandrajensen.gaia.com — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 17:51:47 GMT

This post is anonymously posted in response to this assignment. For more details on how this works, also see this anonymous topic assignment.

—————————-

COMMENTING:
with this assignment (as with all work posted on Diving Deeper ) it is important that all comments be about the piece, - the writing - how it affects you, what it is about the writing that works for you etc; not to whoever you think or imagine is the 'author' of the piece.
——————————-

I don't want to write about this

I don’t want to talk about or write about goodbyes. I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think you have said goodbye. You said leave instead, and that is what happened. Everything by your design. He is not angry. I have said to your daughter that I am not angry. I lied. I am angry. I am also afraid, sad, shocked and undone. The last straw that broke this camel’s back. We are what we create. You know this, at least the thinking part of you does – you’ve said the very words to me. The self help books are piled in corners, threatening to tumble out over themselves on the book shelves. Uselessly collecting dust. Empty words gathered before a closed mind. You preached all of those words – crammed the books down other people’s throats, demanded that they listen to you, do what you said…. But never have you done what you have said… never. I understand the fear, the anger that boils inside of you, the fear that drives you to push everyone away, to lash out and to refuse to face what is happening right now. I understand. I just don’t agree.I am angry.

It is easy for you to shut me out. To draw the bloodlines, to erase me, us from your life. Close your eyes, close your ears, and we disappear form your life. You don’t want to be judged, and I get that. I know that you want to beat this cancer that is taking over your body. I know that you want to be free of it – but the hole in your soul has been there long before the cancer arrived. Long before. I don’t want to write mean things about you, because I am not a mean person. I want to write the truth to you, and you can do what you want with it. I just need to say it.

The truth is – you are very ill. You make the choices that have lead up to this moment. It’s not his fault. It’s not your son’s fault. It is not your daughter’s fault. It's not anyone's fault. This is your path to live, or not. You made choices and now you are dealing with the consequences. Yes, it is scary. It is not going to be easy to do the work that you need to do to change, to heal, to move on. I want to believe that you want this. That you want to be better. Part of me thinks that you feel that it is easier to just disappear, to hide – and that goes beyond the pain and sickness… it goes beyond this life.

This breaks my heart. I know it isn’t about me – it is your life, your choice to make – but there are ripples racing out from the boulder that has been dropped in the middle of our pond. It is more like a tsunami, a tidal wave, threatening to drown us all.Somewhere in this chaos, or from it at least, I hope there will be healing, peace and the chance for something positive to grow.

What has to happen will – and has. The walls that you have been building are thick and high now. Before you cut yourself off from the light, I hope that you can hear just a word or two. I believe that there is always going to be a chance to choose to be happy, to find that peace within and live from that place. I hope and pray that you will find it in yourself. You are loved – even though you are so difficult to love sometimes. It happens that relationships don't work - sometimes people are not meant to continue on together, and it is time to part. He is a good man, and isn't angry with you. He wants you to be well, and loves you enough to leave without an argument. However you have blended and remolded the truth right now – I hope that some of it breaks through the walls to reach you. You are loved and you don’t need to be alone. Let the light in. Please.

Re: Assignment - what you don't want to write about ~ the next on

http://azyh.gaia.com — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 12:29:45 GMT

my goodness Rob, i feel like i got tingles just reading your reply! thank you so so so so much for going into this detail and showing me why you say thank you. the details you go into all clearly explain a process that i didn't know had explanation! I really could sit at your feet and keep listening. I feel like there is a camp fire here and cookies :)

Reading your explanation of 'vacuum sinks' made me think about the information field and how that connects through the white sinew that covers muscle tissue and is used in energy healing as well 'travel'. i also thought of a book i read called biology of belief . i am sure all of this feeds into the now moment when typing freefall. I never knew that 'tingles' was a field of study! all i knew was that i feel them as a confirmation of spirit, like a muscle test.

this was one of them moments where i think the emotions where too close and deep for me to really appreciate what was unfurling in this conversation. I do alot of 'thinking' to understand the details of things, and i know i over think it. but all in all i am grateful for the understandings that i can share. though this one was feeding through on an unconscious level and has been wanting to for a while now.

reading back over it now it has been a few days, i can begin to see it in new perspectives. and it is becoming interesting to me as a writer and thinking about possibilities as a play.

Ruth, I love how you put it in your comment about jumping a level and no promises being made. I liked that too.

Peter, if there is one thing that i say repeated over and over to my girls and others... it is "sharing your story is the most important gift we can give each other" and I share mine when it seems like it would help to bring understanding.

Re: Assignment - what you don't want to write about ~ the next on

http://nestingwave.gaia.com — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 19:55:43 GMT

Dear Azyh,

It seems to me that these two characters are compartments of the "I" character's own being and although apparently separate, only two sides of a polarity, both seeking union. It is ultimately beyond the male/female union, although cloaked in that metaphor.

One could say that only ego, pride, lack of transparency, doubt, past bitterness and common human weakness stand in the way. In other words, the normal humanlife of homo sapiens sapiens at this point in our evolution, which is only a very partial understanding of what is.

The dissociation between the two polarities becomes more and more reconciled the deeper you dive into those two sessions of 20 minutes.

It starts out in protective egoism in part 1 but the "us" and "other" let go to some extent and start to melt into music. In part 2 the depth of this emerging reconciliation continues but more pragmatically.

By writing that which you don't want to write about, an unexpected interconnectivity is being established within you that is not just momentary but permanent. It is an AHA. Not just for you but for the readers also. Thanks.

This is so incredibly honest, Azyh, and written with great courage... and you did it in approximately 2 sessions of 20 minutes each? WOW. It is really a prime living example of what diving deeper is truly about, in my view.

What an inspiration to me this is! I know everyone here was greatly moved and I agree with everything each one of our sisters here have to say and our brother Peter also.

Yet, it is mysterious in that these spontaneous processes are not easily put into linear format -- unless (apparently) they are done so in a very spontaneous manner and thus avoid all self-censorship. The metaphores that could be used poetically here would make this particular piece less communicable and more obscure. This is best communicated as a story/dialog in horizontal time without too much metaphorical dimensional overlay, which you did, expertly I might say.

The improvisational manner of the exercise was a great help for this. No editing. Great. Just... bllaaaah.   There it is. LIke a Zen brush stroke flyin' white.   That which is not said is equally important with what is said.   This is what jazz improvisation is all about.   The oldtimers use to say, "tell yer story man."

(sorry for waxing scientific- philosophical in the next few paragraphs.. but ... your fine writing brought it up in my mind)

There is a very... universal and mysterious process taking place here which could be called a direct manifestation of the sub-quantum kenetic. <= a term coined by physicist Peter La Violette.

It is my opinion that through this type of exercise, and other similar spontaneous exercises, the powerful emotions and cognitive memories produced within the (very courageous) writer help create the proper pschyo-physiological state to energetically boost the approximately 3-6 trillion bodily cells to maximum electrical capacitance, allowing them to act as perfect "vacuum sinks" and infuse the bioform with what Willhelm Reich called the "orgone." Life energy. Healing energy. That's why you tingle and make others tingle also when they partake of such powerful work that ultimately uplifts the soul rather than dampens it.

Listening to fine music does the same.

You don't have to understand what I just said except, thank you. (I'm not sure I do either.) :O)

The more primal energy is interchanged between the two voices the more courage and insight emerges in both.

Sometimes I think this is what the entire Creation is really all about.   (The "ministry" of both Gutama and the Christ is the "ministry of reconcilliation. No more "us" and "them" or "self" and "other." No more Mannechean warfare.)

The true Self finally becomes known by its signature of Oneness. By exercising yourself in this action you are teaching yourself consciousness expansion at the DNA level!    You could call it "Divine Interconnectivity."

This didn't just happen overnight but certainly shows the creative fruit of such self-inquiry and contemplative assimilation of personal experiences -- no matter what specific processes might have released it and brought it about (manifested it). That varies from person to person. We are all unique in that. There is no "one size fits all."   Some gain this level of insight through meditation and prayer, others through visual art, others through music and on and on.   Some through physical participation in sports, yoga, swimming.

It can literally be anything. In my wife's case, it was through physical torture as a child -- not recommended. Yoga and meditation is far better and without the PTSD side-effects. :O)

In your case, it is obvious that the communication of language has very much to do with it and you are no novice. The Great Bard smiled on this one. Me too. :O)

Will the "I' person ever find the level of intimacy desired? No. Why? Because it is infinite.   The seeking is eternal process. So is the finding. Neither is static but in continual flux. Initial Romance never lasts but it doesn't have to. There is constant interchange occurring between your bioform and the seething orgone. Here at this creative nexus, it becomes CONSCIOUS.

That must be why the Bodhisatva refuses to merge with the All One until every other being in Creation is ready to do so likewise.   If even ONE is left behind, the Bodisatva continues to reincarnate to caretake and communicate that Dharma which is non-communicable on the physical plane.

When all desire ceases, as in Buddhist thought, there still remains this basic primal Universal DRIVE for the transcendent oneness of ultimate intimacy. It is not optional but built into every quanta and sub-quanta that manifests itself as the Great Creation.

It is the steam engine of all Creation, transformation and evolution.

I think what I appreciate most about this extraordinary work, Azyh is the bouyant uplifting it brings. I strive for that in my own writing but this piece here is in no way contrived. It just... happens naturally and spontaneously.

As the Zen master once said to his class of novices, "Now... you are all already perfect... but... you could all use some improvement."

Namaste,

Rob

Re: Assignment - what you don't want to write about ~ the next on

http://cleaningdishes.gaia.com — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 02:45:14 GMT

"When you believe in fairy tales you give them hope."

This is a great dive, I like the line above, because of the truth in it, that fairy tales give people hope, they do. Story is very powerful and can have healing and transformitive effects on people. The american indians use storys for healing.
Peter
.

Re: What you don't want to write about: Dearest K

http://cleaningdishes.gaia.com — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 02:11:12 GMT

That was a great dive, right into the complex world of human relationships with their weaknesses, bad choices, and hazy ethical configurations, sometimes down right upside down. That was really good,

             Thank you,
              Peter

Re: What you don't want to write about: Dearest K

http://sandrajensen.gaia.com — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 13:09:08 GMT

oh, my, Ruth. This gives me the chills. It was so complex I had to re-read things, but I don't think this is the writing, it is simply the unbelievably complex story, so multi-layered with twists and turns and knots. All the emotions - and the more difficult, 'greyer' ones, so beautifully explored. I like that it's not all black and white - that the characters are not 'good' or 'bad' but true examples of humanity -- in all our complicated and difficult and conflicting actions and feelings. I imagine there is even another 'story' behind the one touched on in the end. This is all so huge - and probably huger than what is here - I'm not surprised it's something a writer might want to not write about, and yet, I'd also imagine the pull would be great too, like a undertow as one swims. It feels like a story that has to be written, sometime.

Thanks for diving. Deep waters.

xo

What you don't want to write about: Dearest K

http://gospelwriter.gaia.com — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 21:01:18 GMT

Dearest K—

I looked at the date this morning—October 22nd—and remembered it was your birthday. How old would you be now? How many years since I last saw you, when you were a budding teenager with the crazy hormones, the sudden craving for... what, you weren’t sure. I knew, though, strange thoughts filling the mind of formerly crass doings, suddenly attractive, exciting. I still remember my own experience, coming from an innocence and a worldliness, unsought and hidden, forbidden. I have often wondered, knowing what I know now, if that had been your experience as well, illicit love between parent and child. So seducing, those thoughts, how can I make him love me more than anyone? Especially, more than the intruder, the usurper, the wicked witch stepmom—no, not stepmom, that’s too accepting, too...

So, wicked stepmother, interloper, the one but for whom the real mom would have come back to the dad. After she left, following her drug- and alcohol-induced dreams to the States with your dad’s friend; after I hooked up with your dad and you two girls, being a surrogate mom as best I knew how (which I realize wasn’t that great); after I gave up on it because I was at such odds with your father’s ways; after I started seeing him and you again: I saw some pictures you had drawn of you with your father, oh, innocent enough, but you had depicted yourself as adult (though you were, what? 8?), and I wondered...

Much later I know you accused him of raping you when you were a child, a teenager maybe. I don’t know anything more about it than that. It was your father who told me; by that time you had been living with your mom for a while, your dad had been taken away to prison for some sort of white-collar crime, I forget exactly which one. It was after he got out that he told me you’d publicly accused him of rape. Is it true? I asked him, and he replied after a moment, bitterly... oh, I forget what exactly. Something about you raping him? Thinking back on that now, I can’t quite believe it, because you can’t have been more than 11 or 12 when you went to live with your mom. But the fact is, and I’ve often thought of this: that whatever he said, he didn’t deny the accusation. And I know this about him: he never could tell a lie outright. So I’m thinking that it probably did happen, the rape.

Oh my poor K—. But it isn’t even that I sat down to write about. I was remembering the jealousy and unease I felt when I saw that picture you drew, of you and your dad as man and woman, mates (in an innocent way). The jealousy I always felt at your father’s protection of you, favouring of you; the way he expected me to be the mother on the one hand, and denied me the right on the other. The sometimes callous way I treated you as a result. How sorry, how sorry... And I know you came to me so long ago in a dream, simply standing before me and telling me you forgave me, even at a time when I was barely acknowledging to myself my wicked stepmother behaviour toward you.

I found your sister so much easier to love, she barely remembered she had another mom, until years later when your mom came back into her life, long after she’d come back into yours. I have a mom too! she told me, newborn stars lighting up her eyes, after the first time, and I felt a new jealousy then, of sorts. But in a way, too, I felt more free to leave after that, I had stayed so long because I couldn’t bear to be like your own mom, deserting you kids. I wish I had told you then what your mom once told me, and your dad confirmed, that he had told her he would kill anyone who took his kids away from him. And you probably didn’t know that he had already lost a son and daughter from an earlier marriage; that would have been when he was still drinking.

Anyway, I wish I had told you that so you wouldn’t feel so bad, thinking your mom had deserted you, when she was just scared to death of taking you with her then, the first time she left. Or was it the second time? It’s all so long ago, hard to remember. Well, and she was an alcoholic too, and small wonder when you think about her horrendous teenage experience of becoming pregnant and being locked in the basement by her parents during her whole pregnancy. (WTF? God, god, where does this craziness come from?)

Re: Assignment - what you don't want to write about ~ the next on

http://gospelwriter.gaia.com — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 17:44:26 GMT

This is great, that you continued the conversation. One thing I noticed is that at some point this feels like jumping to another level, like the two participants or the two parts of the I are getting closer to a resolution of their differences. And to me it seems more obvious now that the differences are illusional, based on fear and an inability or reluctance to trust because of things that happened in the past, on the one side, and on the other, perhaps, a fear of not being able to entirely control animal nature? Because sometimes immediate needs and desires can override promises and thoughts of the other's welfare. But no promises really are made here, and I like that very much. Life, relationships are about exploring and seeing where something takes one. And getting comfortable in one's own skin (I'm thinking now of the first part, the beginning of this thread) is important, but the testing ground for what we learn in the inner, is in the outer (to me it seems that way).

I love everything about this piece, but in particular:

I wont be deterred by endings. I kiss them good night, and I wait for a new day.

Towards the end I noticed there were bits of the dialogue where I wasn't entirely sure who (or which part of the I) was speaking, and that to me spoke of a narrowing of the gap between opposing sides or viewpoints, a coming to oneness of what seemed separate and different. Really, very skilfully done.

Thanks.

Re: Assignment: What You Don't Want to Write About

http://gospelwriter.gaia.com — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 17:13:19 GMT

Oh, I was thinking about this piece again this morning and remembering that I had meant to comment on the use of second person. So, yes to what Sandra said a few minutes ago---it adds to the intimacy of the scene, the story, in a way that makes the reader feel fully there.

Re: Assignment - what I don't want to write about

http://sandrajensen.gaia.com — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 16:59:15 GMT

Thanks so much for reading this, Azyh, la, Andrea, Peter. I know I probably 'should' have gone on but the desire NOT to write it is huge. I kind of forced myself in amongst a day of paper sorting. Very interesting the connection the female experience specifically. I hadn't seen that until it was pointed out to me. The two men sitting there. Yes indeed. Thanks!

I'm seeing the possibility of some short scenes like this, not particularly connected other than characters and thematically. Could be interesting.

xo

Re: Assignment: What You Don't Want to Write About

http://sandrajensen.gaia.com — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 16:51:44 GMT

I found this extraordinary. So incredibly touching without being sentimental. I love the use of the second person. It pulls me in to what is happening in a way that includes me, and at the same time makes me feel very close to both the narrator and the child. It's so very sad, and yet explores and shows something that I think is incredibly difficult to express - a kind of immense dignity and presence that often happens with someone who is very ill, dying.

Just beautiful.

Re: Assignment: What You Don't Want to Write About

http://drechanteuse.gaia.com — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 15:20:09 GMT

This is really beautiful writing, each detail fitting into place to show the scene just as intended. I was moved along through this piece at a slow but steady pace, no confusion at all as to what was taking place.

I know that the popular style of writing is to almost write without breathing, to rush and not think, just let the words fill the page, but this had a much slower, more textured feel to it, and that helped to clearly create the mood, the tensions and the moments that were punctuated.

I agree with Ruth that the line You laugh, light and merry, and for a moment the sun comes out and the world is right again is just so perfect. I also love the connection between the girl and the dog.

This is a really superb dive. Thanks!

Andrea