Sometimes naked, sometimes mad, now a scholar, now a fool; thus they appear on earth, the free men. – Hindu Verse
‘Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
Nor customary suits of solemn black,
Nor windy suspiration of forced breath,
No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
Nor the dejected havior of the visage,
Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief,
That can denote me truly: these indeed seem,
For they are actions that a man might play:
But I have that within which passeth show;
These but the trappings and the suits of woe. – Hamlet
People will come here and quickly say to themselves – this must be one of the most self indulgent…whatever this is…that I have ever seen.
Yes. Exactly. That’s the point.
People tell me their secrets, you see. And the thing about secrets is – and really, aren’t most conversations not done on social media private? The thing about secrets is, they are poison. If you carry one around long enough, you either break the secret or it breaks you. This is true of other people’s secrets we carry as well.
One of the first things they say in writing 101 is – mine your past. That’s easier said than done when the secrets you carry are almost always not yours alone to bear.
This puts the writer in a tough spot. You have to be tricksy. A little smoke and mirror, a little razzle dazzle. You know. Entertain.
But it’s only razzle dazzle and smoke and mirrors if there isn’t a point.
Believe me. I have a point. But it’s no fun if I just say it. I did a lot of work here.
You figure it out.
Aren’t we having fun?
Are you not entertained?
Weeeee weeeee weeee!
The trouble is that we have a bad habit, encouraged by pedants and sophisticates, of considering happiness as something rather stupid. Only pain is intellectual, only evil is interesting. This is the treason of the artist; a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain. ~Ursula Le Guin
One must say Yes to life and embrace it whenever it is found — and it is found in terrible places; nevertheless, there it is.
For nothing is fixed, forever and forever and forever, it is not fixed; the earth is always shifting, the light is always changing, the sea does not cease to grind down rock. Generations do not cease to be born, and we are responsible to them because we are the only witnesses they have.
The sea rises, the light fails, lovers cling to each other, and children cling to us. The moment we cease to hold each other, the moment we break faith with one another, the sea engulfs us and the light goes out. ~James Baldwin
