Wednesday, January 9, 2008


This is actually a post I wrote in August and never published. It gets to many of themes of the project.. but hasn't yet hit upon it completely.. there's some empty spots in here, because I've just now edited it for general readability.
This blog also kind of serves as research notes.. it helps me see what i am thinking .. so take it all in stride..

It's kinda late here, kinda late ya hear? but I need to, must heed to, you know.. the creed.. of meeting. the greeting, not fleeting, just leading
to the next post, the next time I'll host,
a thought, I
ought to share
with myself, and thus maybe with you
afterwards.. after math.. not shady though, not hazy
just bright or maybe sometimes shady, but the kind that is under a tree in summer.. yeah,
but more like in fall, and speaking of the seasons,
august 2nd marked the date, as we ro..tate..
that the light begins to wane, get ready,
gettin steady for the beginning of the end, not of life, but of this cycle, this stint,
tis a hint
or something.. I'm just playing here.

Umm shout out to Girls For Free.. (style) at Wes..

But back.. sometimes I stay up really late to write these posts or anything really...

I hope I can devote some good feeling here or honesty to the cause I was feeling before I got tired. I just finished watching Pan's Labyrinth for the first time. I really am actually too tired.

Pan's labyrinth.. and other fairytales, folktales, myths and this book I was reading some time ago The Hero with the African Face and coming to a thought that I'd never had now ... just as if it was happening to me while watching this movie.

The trials, tests, slips falls, the triumphs searchings and questionings in a story..
are part of one story yes .. but also part of a Great story, a Great story by which, by which we ascertain the measure of ourselves. But more than just you having to go through challenges,
because sometimes that word challenge can be spoken in a way to make you afraid, or to give you the impression that it will be deathly hard to make it- I kinda believe..
I kinda believe, I certainly believe there is something more to it than this.
More to it than that.Hopefully I can explain this in further detail.

Baba Yaga,
There are I believe.. Eastern European stories about this witch.
Her house has chicken legs and can move around. In some stories she is mean or something and I know that the word "mean" doesn't explain much, but that is the best way for me to explain it, as I halfway don't remember the story at this time in the morning.
But we have to remember that oftentimes in stories and myths, things and people and
occurences symbolize other things, An aspect of ourselves that needs paying attention to. or dealing with. or thinking

A\nd Baba Yaga is an old lady mind you. She is an old, crazy, lawless witch who maybe does some horrible things. But in the land of storytelling she might represent the wild woman or
the wild person or that element. An aspect of ourselves/ that need not, must not be contained.
..tid bit.. hit miss.. tip top.. pop lock

what else?

A good friend of mine told me once
that she believed there were actually native americans who could fly. That she bet.. and not on some exotification tip.. /like" woo woo..
native americans "( you know the way certain ethnic groups are often portrayed in certain kinds of films... I think my next post will be about this)

But she too had done work on dreams..
the sleeping ones and talking to people about them..

And so I just came to the real thought, maybe the first clarified thought of this matter..
It's kind of amazing the way research or a thought search can unfold..

..But after thinking about Pan's Labyrinth and all the aforementioned and pretty much talking to myself with the relief and benefit of clarification through having spoken with other people about the things you talk to yourself about
( you can't be as vague with other people as you are with yourself.. )

But what I was saying was.. the point i was trying to show to myself was..
(and the world is so big sometimes the greater task is not to take in everything or understand it all, but to simplify ... The world is so big it is easy to see and want to encompass all,
and you are searching.. you have to start somewhere..
a big idea turning smaller then getting bigger again through focus.. or just sifting,
really still big)..

I want stories.
I'm looking and looking out for the hidden and apparent meanings in our stories... the stories of our lives.( i will need to come up with my own working definition of the word story)
Like our "seemingly" regular day stories ( no day need be ordinary ( CofL to the rescue, eh?( plus there might be hidden references in these writings (but if you ask me or something i might tell you) how many parentheses within parentheses are there in here though))))).

but yeah..

i really believe we can fly.. take that however you wanna take that


so imagine this.. and these are new thoughts.. you are getting the crisp crack o' dawn crust here.

so imagine this
what if in our lives . . day to day or weekend to weekend or feigned monotony or real monotony w e are living in our mythologies and What if we are not separate from these \
fairy tales? What if they walk with us day by day . . t h o s e stories you heard as a ch i l d or made up. what if we are imbibed in them.. the inextricable matter

Sometime in the past 400 years since slavery in the Americas - And slavery in America is so mythological these days- some someone enslaved told a story, some someone whose name I do not know, but who existed for sure, told a story about flying africans. Living their day to day lives..

imagine that then /an african american living their "day to day life" one day dreamed a story ... ONE day dreamed a story. Naturally they were in that story.
See Today when I/we think of this story, we think of those people that were enslaved, and we posit them in the third person.
But for that person, this person living,
this same story would be first person narrative. They undoubtedly
visualized themselves as one of the people who could fly.. had to. It was their own face they saw.

As I can imagine it, as I can imagine it, see as I can see it, that must have been a deep yearning ..They must have seen themselves rising up on the air
whether they dreamed it at night or . . in the day, don't matter.
they dreamed it.
It must have invaded them. This call and wish and desire

They imagined themselves fantastical . . they took a magic and a yearning inside of themselves and crafted a story, crafted a dream for themselves, crafted a way of coming.. and what would happen.. what happened?

...Now we are here.. freer than they seemed/seamed,
but still wanting to execute our freedom/s to the fullest extent

This kid envisioned this story not seeing or knowing how or where or when to get to freedom..
.. Man what i'm really trying to say is that Hidden in our stories, hidden in plain view are our mythologies, our folk tales, our faerie tales.

We are them or if not a specific story, the quality of stories. We are bound up with stories and maybe flying in a dream is really flying.

So i want to listen to stories and sometimes this might involve someone telling me what happened the last time they walked down to the corner store ( i have a story about that I'll tell later) or the candy lady or .. the mini- mart.. Sometimes it might involve those things which are relevant.. but inside of these mundane seem/seaming stories is a fairy tale or a seeming so,

by the way what is a seeming/ what is a seam/ing and is there really any difference. can we break apart the seemings, can we unstitch the seamings and get to the inside

or the wish and want of one.. If africans enslaved and other peoples around the world can make up stories and mythologies about themselves and their lives, and about their selves beyond ! realistic! (what's realistic yo? ) explanation or better yet as they as they know themselves to be! regardless of a seeming/seaming reality.

Like were they really ever slaves? Is that a reality one should accept? ( Question. question. make. create)
Were they really? They had to imagine/know/create that they were not. Was that science-fiction in their time? Was freedom science-fiction? What else is science-fiction today?

If they can, which they did, I am certain that we can. I don't think all of the stuff we see is really real.. and there's some stuff we can't see yet really that is.

So I'm wanting to search for the mythologies and folktales that are inherent in the lives and stories of young people, and all the cool folks i like, yeah cause i can say that too.. not too academic here all the time here... all the cool folks i like however and whenever you are.. all the cool friggin folks i like

so the people could fly is real
that magic is real
cause it's in these real for real life people
these real for real life people

and i wanna say this real quick.. cause i can!
but black youth.. latina youth.. asian youth.. particularly
we need this magic making, making bringing, waking, in ourselves
and about ourselves..
suddenly i think of that langston hughes poem that everybody and their momma
and daddy be quotin

Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So, boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps.
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now—
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.

and maybe i should have a moment of silence here,
not crying though

if i could turn this upside over and maybe just a little on the side? i could maybe just look through that crystal on the slantwise against the light so that it hits me on the angle and pierces me straight through the eye

calling out the crystal stair.. from the inside place, winding up out of
those depths shining,
curling up like the breath of smoke, tiered. winding.. out to ..
in to..

in my interpretation i think langston speaks of the crystal stair.. its plausible existence..
potentiality and purpose.. ( however not to associate the idea of the crystal stair for laziness or some substitute)

time to go
more now & laters, member those?

"we walk up on the air like climbing on a gate"- the people could fly, virginia hamilton

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