Saturday, April 3, 2010

Thousands of rubber duck expected to land on the coast of New England

Thousands of rubber duck expected to land on the coast of New England.The ducks fell overboard from a container ship from China to Seattle during a storm in 1992. They floated along the Alaskan coast, reaching the Bering Strait in 1995. Once they were trapped by slow moving ice and they broke through it in three years. According to oceanographers, those ducks have traveled for thirty-two thousands miles.

During their long voyage through three oceans, scientists have tracked their progress - and say it has taught them valuable lessons about surface currents.
They finally landed the coast of New England in 2003.

Little Black was a homeless dog.He lived around my neighborhood. He came to our house during mealtime for food. We got used to him as a family member. Later, he started to leave home in the early morning and back at late night. Then he was gone a week. Once he left and got hurt back after a month. I started to worry about him, and then one day, he disappeared.

I should set up a mini camera on his neck to follow his adventure. What kind of sensory in his eyes? What is the call of the wild to attract him leaving us? Was it a solitary journey or free happiness?

homework for Fractured Narratives

#1
Can I open these boxes? I asked
Are you sure you want to open it?
It’s dark and empty inside. The black one answered
If you touch me, I would fly away.
Please stay away from me and just watch my beautiful dressing. The feather and colorful one said
I feel so tired with this heavy color, even though this little shining points on my body the brown with golden sparkle said
The white one kept silent. She watched me as I looked at her.
The silence made me feel safe and relax.
I smiled at her.

#2

樂 Joy + 園 Garden= 樂 園 Paradise

I am a word. She is also a word.
After meeting each other, we compose a different word called wedding.
There are different sentences in the world, and every sentence has different function.
We learn in “school” sentence, make money in “work” sentence….
One page is a day.
Every morning, we wake up from the first sentence of a new page, and head to bed in the last sentence of the page.
Pages after pages, we find out there is a bigger section than sentences, called paragraph.

#3

I’m sitting on a chair in a long hall
Watching people coming and leaving
Some left words and rushed to their way
Some sat for a while
I got closer to them slowly / TOO CLOSE / they walked away
I sat there, watching the light in the other side of hall
When it turns dark, I listen the music in my heart
I heard a voice, reading my words
Those words came from darkness,
I see the smile on their faces
They are dancing in the music
Enjoy the different view in the silent world.

it was the first time he knew “word”

When he was thirty-six years old, it was the first time he knew “word”
(His third birthday, his first one was twelve years old.)
Mother opened the case, He felt sun shine.
Mom gave him a pen as a birthday present.
He had no idea how to use it.
“ You must use it with word. Word is a kind of speaking.
We apply different meaning to words, such as what we see or how we feel.”
“Is it a kind of toy?”
“Almost the same, try it.”
She held his hand to write his name: S-C- H-U-B-E-R-T.
The wall soon filled with his own words .
“Mom, I need another empty suitcase”.
She gave him pieces of paper.
He wrote down everything he saw, suitcase, floor, wall, room, mother, mother’s clothes, her eyes, her lips, her kissing, the sunshine, the window, and the wind.
He started to face the mirror to write about himself, his eyes, his noise, his hand, and his pen…. when he finished all he can write, he began to take his words apart.
He used the part of words to rebuild an empty suitcase and broke the words to rebuild a wood factory, a forest, a tree, a seed, and a soil…
He deconstructed everything he wrote.
He deconstructed the drafts, which are as high as ceiling.
He reduced the height of them, little by little, to a piece of blank paper.
How amazing! After twenty years, I wrote a blank page.
Now, he wants to write a story about how people review an unwritten book and how it disappears

He spends his life in his mother’s suitcase

He spends his life in his mother’s suitcase.
He doesn’t know he has father.
Or I should say, he doesn’t know what the meaning of father is.
Sometimes mother told him, I plucked a “ father” on road.
He pictured the “father” a thing growing up on the road, staying there and keeping silence.
“Mother, what is pluck?” He asked, “Pluck is to take a small part from a whole, such as plucking a flower from a plant” mother answered, “What is flower? What is plant?”
“ I forget you’ve never seen a plant or a flower. For example, if I were a plant and you would be a flower. You were part of me before you were born.

“ I got it. What kind of finger plucks me off you?

Mother only use one kind of perfume, so he believes there is one kind of smell of perfume. He can’t imagine other kind of smell. When he smells himself, he wonders he has two bodies or two souls.

He spends his life in his mother’s suitcase.
Suitcase contains all of his understanding of the world.
Even bigger, like his mother’s bedroom (his mother never walks out the room).
Mother only spends few seconds to walk from this side to other side of the world.
The world is a small place, and has two things—him and his mother, a plant and a flower.
If there are other things, they must be a thing with four eyes and eight legs.

Every time the suitcase opens, he sees mother’s smile.
He doesn’t know there is a word called “sad “in the world.

Saturday, January 30, 2010

Word Count Marathon

One
Opening. Closing. See. Smell. Taste. Hear
Two
The cause. The effect.
Three
Walking to sound. Talk to me. Listen to me.
Four
When I was walking. I had to go. It was not fair. Leave me alone please. Watch yourself now kid. Let go of me. Don't talk to me. Don't listen to me. Please leave here now. Turn the light off. When I was walking. Four steps further out. One two, three, four.
And then you asked. You asked me back. I wouldn't listen then. I just kept walking. I held the keys. I felt the shimmering. I felt by myself. I couldn't help trying. We want to talk. Walking separately is nice. Don’t hold my hand.
Five
It wasn't exactly true then. I counted the steps up / the steps down / watch the sun rise / watch the sun fall / did it while sleeping. One, two, three, four, five.
I wasn't keeping count really. I just kept watching you. You give up quickly. I give up quickly. Let’s just stay in bed.
Six
Now it’s getting harder to wake. I know you can help now. Six is more than five. I need an extra finger. I wore my shoes out walking
Seven
This is my favorite part of years. I really wasn’t looking forward to this. There it was all of sudden. I counted backward as I breathed in. Seven six Five Four Three Two One. Breathe in, breathe out Hold the clouds move .listen to them as they change. started crying it was so beautiful. Watching the wind go by. You can see everything but wind.
Everyone else was looking up at it. I looked down at the shadows forming. Eight. It’s all a little less persistent these days. Time doesn’t want me so much. It falls behind me when I’m sleeping well. I didn’t mean what I just said. What I really meant, I don’t know if I can do this. I’m not sure if I know anything really.
A dog. Never pick up crap over again. I was going to collect the fallen apples. I will take any of apples waiting. They call out whispering. Try to ignore the persistence of objects. I try to forget the absence of time. How many years does it take you to forget. One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight.
Nine. And so it began that on the ninth day. You would not have asked had I been so. I wouldn’t have been so anxious to transcribe it. And then there was that thing about the sky. How it opened up to you, called you up. You seemed so happy those days. But how could I tell as I was gone. Too much of this has to do with transpiring.
Not enough of it with the actual act of one two three four five six seven eight nine.
It had truly become a forgotten garden back there. I only opened the window after I knew nothing.

勿忘初衷, 愛你原來的模樣

Mark Strand, Lines For Winter
Tell yourself
as it gets cold and gray falls from the air
that you will go on
walking, hearing
the same tune no matter where
you find yourself --
inside the dome of dark
or under the cracking white
of the moon's gaze in a valley of snow.
Tonight as it gets cold
tell yourself
what you know which is nothing
but the tune your bones playas you keep going.
And you will be able
for once to lie down under the small fire
of winter stars.
And if it happens that you cannot
go on or turn back and you find yourself
where you will be at the end,tell yourself
in that final flowing of cold through your limbs
that you love what you are.

這輩子我要為自己變成一個我喜歡的女人,
一個愛自己的女人並不是要表現在自信、獨立或女性主義上,
而是那些對自己的理解跟包容—張懸說的
當你全力以赴時,很容易不小心忘了最初的感動,
勿忘初衷, 愛你原來的模樣