Blog Manifesto

Blog Manifesto


This blog is dedicated, as the title would suggest, to the qualities of being young. We are young writers. We are playful and sensitive, fluid and changing. We are unashamed with our art. We wonder at the world, puzzle over the meanings of things and twirl in delight at images and ideas that float by, grabbing at them as they pass. We are curious and constantly inquiring and prying concepts open and taking assumptions apart. We are on the ground, close to the earth. We have bare feet and wiggle our toes into nature. We carry our blankies still and wrap up cozy and comfy with each other and tell ghost stories and shiver at creepy things. We laugh and we cry and we take a lot of naps, drained from our outings and exertions.

We write as gifts to each other, tying them up in ribbon and leaving them around for each other to find, hiding and waiting for the person to wake up and read. Surprise! We weave our stories together to create a bond. One writes, then the other. then another again. We have a shared reality that we have crafted, bit by piece by patch, by string. We write simple, honest authentic things, with our unique voices. You can tell each one of us from the other, without knowing who wrote what. Our voices are clear and gentle and original. We whisper and our personalities roar! Like children, our feelings are strong, our passion for what we write shakes us. We are moved and sometimes left breathless, by our own words or the words of each other. We cannonball into each others spaces. We fall backward into each others writing, like into a pile of leaves or a soft bed. We gobble and grin and ask for more. (footnote kudos to JC)

Then we go to bed, wake up to a new day and do it all over again!

Thursday, February 9, 2012

the voice of his own son

'And listening, he heard the murmuring of a man's voice, and it was the voice of his own son.'

Betrayal or trouble making,  was it O-lan starting trouble or was the eldest son going too often into the inner courts cozying up to Lotus, Wang Lungs younger wife. When you have several wives and one is old and ugly and no longer visited at night, one wonders as to the motive, behind the suggestion, "Come home early unexpectedly. "

Families are complicated systems.

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The tensions between a father and a son, as the son matures into manhood.  I know only what I see in my husband and son.  My gentle quiet husband is starting to rile up as my son gets larger and louder in his complaint and treatment of me.   The other day he told him in strong voice.  "Don't talk to MY WIFE that way."  And he has started checking to see that son has not been bedeviling me.

I believe it to be the job of men to encourage their sons to go out into the world.  Hopefully it can be done with graceful love and tenderness and not at the end of a boot or a bamboo rod.
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