Just the other day we joined: Just the other day we joined our child at home watching the 1967 Jungle Book which is their current favourite. We've seen it a many number times together but in the 'dream state' a rerun was called for. Then in a moment realising that the moment shared is etched for eternity like a tether to a fleeting innocence. Pretty soon they have gone and grown and without those tethered memories and shared adventures no recollection would ground us and connect us back to that singular moment of innocence when another phase of life presents itself with new opportunities however different they may be in mode and mind. So wonderful, so much to gain and so much to be lost. May regret be afar off and a harnessing be fruitful.
Two aspects of this very: Two aspects of this very profound essay stand out to me: the profound wisdom with which you interpret the past, and the similarities in the contours of Little Evan's life to mine. High School was a scary place for me my first (which was sophomore), because it was a transition from junior (7th through 9th) high, and because the snide remarks and prejudices seemed tp have much sharper edges in high school. My senior year, however, was entirely different---so pleasant that I was a little traumatized by its ending (not knowing that a new relationship, with my First real Beloved, would begin in about a month). I worked for one, sometimes two, periods a day as TA for the Chairman of the English Department, who was reputed to be the most powerful teacher in the entire school district; and I soon found myself with a new, glossy reputation. I even had a date for the prom.
But reading your essay, I was amazed by the power of your language to evoke memories, good and bad, of my high school. The Little Evan series is powerful, with a highly original concept I have never encountered before. All of its parts are excellent, and a couple of them are off the charts in power and impact---and this one is among 'em.
I agree . . . that is a lot: I agree . . . that is a lot to ponder. I wanted to contrast Mary Shelley and George Sand to Lenin through his father. However, I thought that in 1831 Sand had published her first independent novel, Indiana, which is what I was going for. But, unlike my gaff with the assassin of Sergei Romanov (1905), I actually bothered to check my facts and found out that Sand's novel came out in 1832, so I had to revert to the novel she wrote with her then lover as a collaboration. Oh well, my intention was good, although the result was slightly adjusted.
Soundcloud is the "simplest": Soundcloud is the "simplest" formatted platform, all in one online, venue platform, that you can use for free within minutes of signing up.
Interesting insight therein:: Interesting insight therein: if an Author were not born or did not author (v), then a child/ren of said Author could possibly not have been authored to succeed and carry on assertion of the prior authority. Wherein the author's authorisation allows for the promulgation by their issue. And if childless, would be adapted and subscribed to by an adoptive child and that line continues. Much to muse on.
Thank you, a gazillion times: Thank you, a gazillion times over, for such an uplifting comment---spiritually poetic, and steeped in encouraging theology. This is one of the best comments I have ever received. Your Faith resonates across your words, and your cosmologic perspective is magnificent. You have profoundly helped me tonight, and I am very, very grateful. You are one of PostPoems' finest, and I am thankful to bask in the splendor of your words.
This is consoling and: This is consoling and comforting as well as encouraging in a silent and quiet kind of way. Hope all works out for your significant connection.
How awesome and even: How awesome and even sometimes painful on either end or both for such connections to have been forged and grown through the years!
For my part, in my experience: For my part, in my experience of such I can only draw some small consolation in some wise words: Matthew 15:11, ESV: "it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but what comes out of the mouth; this defiles a person." Looking at the portal to Eden with the fiery sword blocking its entrance, I realise how painful and dark this existence is outside of and separated from the Lord until His return when all tears shall be wiped dry and the wild beasts and children shall frolic together. Oh what a Day to look forward to! Meanwhile, to draw near to the stripes that heal us, the Incarnate God who is no stranger to human suffering. I bit mute on the outside but cosmologically transforming within the realm of faith. Shalom and God speed.
Sometimes we do and say: Sometimes we do and say things out of self preservation. Having been in an almost mirror perfect situation at that age I realise that there would have been some damaging aspect to one's 'finer feeling' as my psychiatrist aunt termed. On my behalf at that age, I justified the resulting 'moving on' to be 'their' being unable to appreciate and accept my friendship and person and duly learned to live with that freeing truth and the self acceptance that had even at that point already been too late in coming. My takeaway is that most beautiful admonition to "let the deserters walk away. They missed out on the opportunity of growing with you, not the other way around."
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