Candy and Fresh Snow

My name is Clint and I'm Abby's husband and Clay's, Lydia's, and Henry's dad. Abby has a beautiful insightful blog titled Oh So Well that tracks our family's journey. Along the way, Abby loads up her readers for a ride where we discover her witty language and timely topics. You may want to start with "Confessions of a Candyholic," "Dear Clay," "Determination," and "Open Letter to the Past Year." You will not be disappointed! I can only hope that this blog simply approaches the worthwhileness of hers. Here's her blog: candyandfreshsnow.blogspot.com

Language and Memory

Is language adequate to accurately articulate to another the pulsing knowledge learned from your heart? Why does memory abandon you or trick you into altering the past? Don't you sometimes, to necessitate communication, replace language with music, laughter, or crying out?

These questions were inspired by my reading of Leif Enger's fictional novel Peace Like a River, particularly the chapters titled, "Be Jubilant, My Feet" and "The Curious Music that I Hear." The narrator, Reuben Land, vividly paints his fascinating short visit to heaven with his dad. Despite the amazing description and recollection, Reuben falls short and laments, "What mortal creations are language and memory!"

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Crazy Courage

On the neuro highway, regulating mood and brooding;
Transmitters runnin' low, the cursed three witness,
Sweet me--ragin' for pleasure, signal despond.

At the dark exit, gettin' off, hazards off, out of sight;
Patrolman, highwayman . . . whatever they call you--
find and bust me if you must, good luck and God bless.

Swallow me some pills. Smoke me some cigs;
Prozac it is and no tickets for smokin.'
Roadin' for courage, courage to master.
Posted by at

1 comment:

  1. TammraJune 2, 2009 at 7:06 PM

    Well put. I totally get it. Hope things are easier today. I love you.

    MOM

    ReplyDelete

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)