Friday, October 24, 2008

In The Arms of Your Significant Being: Two Rivers





“Are you familiar with the recurring debate about Cinderella?” she asked poking around the small crystal bowl containing mixed nuts.

I didn’t know anything about any debate about Cinderella, much less a recurring one.

“No I’m not.” I answered.

“The debate centers around what would have happened if Cinderella’s carriage never arrived to pick her up at the ball before midnight. Without the magic spell, she would be left alone outside the palace gates in her tattered dress with one glass slipper.”

“What do you thing would have happened?”

I had no clue. So I took a shot, “Well, she’d be stranded and the Prince would have eventually run up to her with the other glass slipper. He’d recognize her and viola, end of story and they live happily ever after.”

Actually I liked this version. It eliminated the need for the Prince to run around town to find Cindy, much less come face to face with hundreds of barefooted matrons with bad feet. Besides, I always thought there was something fishy about this story. Would he not recognize her? After all she was a rather striking beauty and he’d already fallen hopelessly in love with her. Why would he have to make sure the slipper fit? It smelled of bourgeois nonsense.

As I finished my response I noticed her studying me with furrowed eyebrows--as if trying to conclude if I were being funny, irreverent, obnoxious, lame, or a combination of all four—with emphasis on the latter two.

After a few seconds, she said, “Well that’s a pretty typical male response, but ok, so here’s the argument: based on what you just said, was the fairy godmother making things too complicated with the whole ‘midnight’ deal? And in doing so, did she introduce unnecessary and reckless risk and obstacles for the two young lovers to consummate their love? You can see how there’s this big division of thought between the traditionalists and the contrarians.”

“Amazing.” I remarked completely astounded.

“You mean because you never thought about the story in this particular way?”

“No, that people would actually bother pondering about something so silly,” I replied.

She selected the lone Brazil nut out of the dish and fished it between her fingers. “I guess you’re right. I made up the whole story just now anyway,” she said she smiled shyly. “It is silly isn’t it? It’s about as silly this whole Brazilian nut thing I have.”

Puzzled I asked, “I thought you sought out Brazil nuts because you favor them over the other nuts.”

“Not especially. While I do like them, I find that I have this inclination toward it as it’s such an unpopular nut. Maybe unconsciously I’m hoping that I’ll meet someone with a similar fondness and it’ll be what he sees special in me. Now that’s really silly isn’t it?” she added. She smiled nervously looking down at her hands, examining the nut.

We’re sitting in the Oak Room having a drink. It’s a midweek evening and the place is fairly quiet. We’re sitting at my favorite table in the far left corner next to the huge windows overlooking Central Park. I’m due to leave New York in two weeks and in the process of bidding farewell to my favorite spots in the City. And I suppose if there were anyplace appropriate to have this evening’s conversation, this would be the place.

“Now you tell me a story,” she bantered.

I told her I didn’t know any stories, nor did I have an affinity for any particular nut. But she was relentless and I finally gave in.

“Have you heard of the tale of two rivers?” I asked.

“During the Age of Enlightenment, there was a Princess who as a young girl befriended the son of a commoner and the two became best of friends and inevitably fell in love.”

“As they lived in a caste society, their backgrounds would never allow for them to be together, but the young man was nevertheless deeply in love with her. Tragically one day the Princess was taken ill with a deadly ailment—one, which there was no known cure. Desperate to save his love, the commoner sought out the wisdom of a sage.

“The young man was told to go where two rivers met and should he find it, it was said that one would be whispered the secrets of the universe. And surely it would contain a cure to save his loved one. It was early September when he set out on his journey and fall was just awakening. The mornings were crisp and bright. The wind was just a bit stronger on the south side of the Sea of Okhotsk. After days of traveling, he found a small stream and followed it until he came to a place where the wind blew lightly amongst the fallen leaves and danced with the bright fall sunlight. As he reveled in the beauty—it felt as if the world was wishing to share with him, all the secrets of the universe. He had arrived. But where was the second river? Looking closely he located the second river but noticed that as close as it came to joining the first, the rivers never quite met.

“Undeterred, he outstretched his arms as he grabbed hold of the two rivers. Muscles tearing to shreds, he pulled the two forceful streams of water as they formed into one gentle flow of nature. As the secrets of the universe unfolded onto him, the Princess stirred, slowing gaining conscious. Arms torn, the young man kneeled to where the light danced and knew instinctively that the only knowledge he needed was his realization of his undying love for her. He felt the wind just a touch stronger. The sky slightly bluer. And the sun brighter and warmer than he had ever felt. As he felt his life slowly leave him, a sense of comfort came across him as he sensed being embraced in the arms of his significant being.”

As I finished the story, I noticed she had stopped fidgeting with the Brazil nut and it was now clutched in her hand.

I asked, “So what do you think of the story? Have you heard it before?”

“No,” she replied. “Was it a childhood story?”

“Actually no,” I replied. “While it’s based on some childhood tales, I just made it up as I was telling the story.”

I suddenly felt self-conscious and foolish. Something had come over me as I started telling the story--it took hold of me and left a feeling of longing over me.

A moment of awkward silence passed and I looked off into the park and remarked, as if it was my turn to admit, “Now that was a pretty silly story.”

Yes.” she replied, adjusting her gaze from my general direction downward to her hand. She opened her hand revealing in her palm the Brazil nut she had been holding and returned it to the crystal bowl.

“Pretty silly.”

Outside the park light shone downward and in the light wind of the about to turn autumn evening, leaves, dusted with a touch of foliage, danced lightly.


--

The Sea of Okhotsk borders Hokkaido, the northern most island of Japan, Kamchatka and Sakalin both properties of Russia. To the west are the Kuril Islands—56 islands originally settled by the Ainu, the indigenous tribal race of northern Japan. Kuril, which derives from the Ainu [the indigenous tribal race of northern Japan] word for ‘man’ has a surprising amount of foliage on the islands closer to Japan—and the wind, more gentle and warmer in the fall. The Ainu, have long held these islands as sacred land. Central and most important to their pagan tales, is an island where it is said that two ancient streams meet to form a river that empties into the strait. Early fall brings a short cycle of sun bathed haven. The leaves, singed with autumn foliage and the gentle wind are awoken and dance uplifted in a circular fashion intermingling with the light. The Ainu have long claimed that this is the spirit of nature preparing for the long hard winter ahead. There are some however, that maintain it is the spirit of those who have been united with their true love and in merriment, are embracing. Whichever the case may be, both maintain it is a place where nature takes all of her wonderments and confides its secrets to you.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

The Trip North

My mind is wandering. It's hard to describe the feeling. I feel as though I'm thinking about a million things while at the same time my mind feels blank. No doubt lack of sleep has something to do with it. I woke up again at 5:30 after maybe four hours of sleep.

I'm sitting at the Burbank airport staring at the CNBC news bookstore. Maybe I should just write something to get my mind elsewhere I think. At least it'll make me concentrate on something.

I'm not particularly looking forward to this trip. It'll be good I know and seeing my uncle and aunt along with my mom would be gratifying. It'll also give me a chance to talk with my mom about her eyes now that it seems there's something more serious than cataracts which is at the cause of her eye problems.

I guess what's lingering on my mind is Grey. While I know she'll be okay, it still pains me to be away knowing to some degree how she's feeling. And I'm sure I'm not making it easy on her by telling her about my feelings towards her. But I'm not sure how to hold back--I have to constantly remind myself to give her the space she needs and not crowd her thoughts needlessly. She knows how I feel and the rest is just time. And most importantly, what's at stake is her health, as that impacts all things surrounding her life right now, and future.

But it became even harder to hold back my feelings about Grey after our conversation about her numerous ailments. As I mentioned to her I was really taken aback. I knew somehow about the seriousness of her many afflictions. I'm not sure how, but maybe it was as simple of listening to her over the course of our conversations and seeing her in the course of the past few years--especially the last months.

As with her I've thought with quite a bit of detail as what this means in terms of a relationship. There will be many limitations--both physically and from the standpoint of even spending time together. Grey mentioned that it may not be fair. While I realize to what she's referring, it's not a matter of fairness to me. For me, being with her is all I want. It's not about the possible limitations we might have in our relationship--but the quality of what we might have being together. If she only knew the effect she has on me. Not just the amorous feelings she evokes but the fact that more so than anybody else I've ever met, she make me want to be a better person--both for her and also for myself.

The boarding call sounds in the background. People are shuffling to ready for their boarding. Writing these thoughts puts my mind at ease. I hope it does for Grey also.

The gates open and I need to join my line. As I stand up I think how I'm about to leave the city where my love resides. I start counting the days when I can see her again.

Saturday, October 11, 2008

In The Arms of Your Significant Being: Project October Update III


Finished.

Now all that needs to be done is arrange for delivery.

The Return of Fall


Something happened to me last night.

To be precise, over the course from when I fell asleep to when I awoke this morning. something in me had changed. I felt different and also sensed that the world was somehow not the same. I still had ten fingers and toes and the sun still rose as usual [or was about to]. There was stillness, but then again it was the weekend. What changed?

I dragged myself out of bed and was greeted by Haruki. That's right, I had fallen asleep reading his book. Making my way to the kitchen, it was chilly. I noticed that the plant had toppled over because of the wind and as I stepped out to the patio in my bare feet, I was greeted by the crisp wind. B-r-r-r. It occurred to me then that I had slept with the bedroom window closed for the first time in three or four months.

The house was still. This may be the first full weekend I'm home in quite a while. Somehow that thought didn't evoke loneliness, but more of a eagerness to enjoy the company of myself. A time to check in with oneself as some would say. Coffee in hand I was back in my bedroom. I was eager to finish my work, but I also had this desire to write. Again, why the sudden urge in writing? I pulled out some clothes from the closest and elected to wear an old pair of what was once a black pair of jeans which had chosen permanently to stay a grayish shade. I hadn't worn them in maybe eight months. It still fit. Glad some things haven't changed [phew]. I chose a light black cotton GAP sweater shirt, also faded from the few years of washes. Odd--only yesterday I was wearing khaki shorts and a light seersucker shirt.

Light classical solo piano music permeated throughout the house. Music usually reserved for Sunday mornings now seemed appropriate on a busy Saturday or for that matter, anytime.

I thought about Grey and wondered if she had gotten any sleep. I thought about her all night, wanting to be next to her. I suppose in a sense she was as I felt her in my thoughts and in my sleep. The sun is starting to shine through my bedroom window. Not the strong forceful sunlight of a few weeks ago, but more of the clean, white brightness just enough to bath my room with a gentle warmth. I notice my feet are cold and decide to wear socks. When was the last time I wore socks at home?

Could it be?

Of course.

Fall had arrived during the night. Not for a visit this time, but to stay.

Welcome back.

Friday, October 10, 2008

In The Arms of Your Significant Being: Project October Update II




A couple of breakthrough days for the project.

I was able to find the media on Thursday which allowed me to finalized the format. It was just there waiting to be discovered. I still have some packaging issues to figure out, but that can come later.

Today was more of production day putting together the elements and deciding on the look and feel. Most of the words are done and just need to decide on how to present the images. I'll still have to play around with it a bit but it's starting to feel good and hopefully it'll come together further tomorrow.

With that sense of accomplishment, I set out tonight to pick up some packaging material. Driving towards the store I felt good. Not sure why, but just good. Better than I've felt in a while. Maybe it's because it's been a while since I've done a project. Maybe. Somehow I knew it was more than just that.

Driving down Moorpark towards Laurel Canyon, I decide to play one of CD's Grey gave me. The green case is for Country she had told me in a matter-of-fact manner as she handed me the CD case. I put in the disc and listened to the first tune. I had no idea who it was but it was nice. A listened to a few more tunes and somehow it sounded perfectly as I drove with the open sunroof, feeling the chill of the October night. It's a nice evening I thought to myself.

While driving, I was somehow reminded of a conversation I had a while ago--actually it had become a recurring conversation over the years. It had to do with the evening of your best day--the title of an album released by Rikki Lee Jones a few years back. The title always intrigued me and she explained it was very meaningful and had something to do with memories of how she spent the evening of the best day of her life. The part I always wondered was so which was the more memorable--the day or the evening? I guess it's intertwined one not being able to happen without the other.

So whenever I think about this, I always try to recall the best day of my life and how I spend that evening. I always have a hard time. I search back into childhood and adulthood and I yes, I did have some memorable days. But did I ever have a best day? I'm not sure. I can't seem to put my finger on it. Or maybe life is just a series of best days regardless of whether it's memorable or not--more to do with the moment? I'm not sure. Thankfully I arrived at the store and I can put a hold on the silly conversation I was having with myself and get on with the shopping.

As I was about to leave the packaging store and visit the bookstore next door, Grey called. She hadn't been feeling well and as we talked it was obvious that she had had a tough day at work. I wished there was something I could do for her and told her so. We talked for a while--me in my car, she in her bedroom. I wish I were able to reach through the phone and hold her. I felt bad not being able to help her. We said our goodbyes and I went back to the bookstore and ended up buying yet another Murakami novel--my eighth I think. It's getting to the point that I have to read the summary and a few pages to make sure I haven't read the book previously.

Driving back I thought about Grey and then about the day. It had been a good day. Maybe even one of those best days. And while I had nothing eventful planned for the evening except reading the book with a glass of wine, nor able to spend the evening with Grey, having her in my thoughts was enough.

Yes, it could very well be the evening of my best day.

Wednesday, October 08, 2008

In The Arms of Your Significant Being: Project October Update I


It's not working. And I'm feeling disappointed.

I had these images in mind and for some reason my archives just weren't cooperating. I toyed with the idea of third-party images, but that just wouldn't be right. I had to use originals. I'm also having problems with the media. I realized that what I had in my wouldn't work in this case and I may have to make it myself--which isn't itself an issue, it's just that it would open up another set of variables to consider--formats, design, materials to name a few.

Things are in a state of flux so I do what's best in this case: instead of thinking about all the variables, start with the basics and start building and focus on the end product. I'm going through the archives and start selecting as many as I think would be appropriate. There's a few but I notice that it's not a perfect fit with the words. Something I hadn't thought through. I'm thinking if this is in the end going to make sense. And of course the images aren't uniform in shape. One more thing I hadn't factored. While frustrated, a voice urges me to keep going and I acquiesce.

I now have a pile of images and they seem like a mish-mash with no coherency. Feeling somewhat defeated I decide to turn to the words and start to focus on editing and formatting. I read and re-read what I have wrote and feel calmer. The voice comes back again reminding me it's the words that matter. I feel much better.

As I start to compose the words with the images it starts working somehow. I notice now that the images are playing a secondary role. Satisfied, I finish my glass of wine and decide to call it a night for the project.

I wonder how Grey's dinner with her mom went and decide to call her. I miss hearing her voice.

Tuesday, October 07, 2008

In The Arms of Your Significant Being: Project October


I've been thinking off and on what to do for Project October.

While on one of my walks a few weeks ago I thought about the event fairly extensive and came to a conclusion that it had to be something meaningful. But what exactly? I recall it being mid-day, hot and a beautiful blue sky overhead. In the distance I saw the Hollywood sign. Odd how I never brought a camera.

Fast forward to this past Tuesday, the seventh of October.

I'm in the Bay Area and the idea starts to gel. Not quite sure how I'm going to do it but the idea seems right and in my mind it seems to work well. Of course, it's always like that isn't it? Ideas and concepts are the easy part, implementation is always the tougher part of the equation--though it's also the fun part.

I'm on the 7:30 pm flight back to Burbank and decide to layout the idea. Fairly simple and straightforward, but realize the layout isn't the key. It's the words. So I decide to start writing the words. I wasn't sure what to base it on so I wrote down what first came into my thoughts. It wasn't anything new--just something I always knew, felt and hoped for. As I wrote down those four words, the rest came flowing. Somewhat satisfied that I had taken the initial step, I put down my pad, closed my eyes and drifted into sleep with lingering thoughts hoping this will work.

Keep your fingers crossed.