tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4956989639073843954.post6055564794860555851..comments2024-03-21T05:30:03.220-04:00Comments on Science teacher: Impolite to askdoylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12901661320505882735noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4956989639073843954.post-1105511636756550932013-04-06T08:37:06.578-04:002013-04-06T08:37:06.578-04:00Dear John,
Thanks (as always) for your words--you...Dear John,<br /><br />Thanks (as always) for your words--you may be my most supportive commenter!<br /><br />"Futility" may be too strong a word. Language does amazing things, and gives our swirling experiences and memories a scaffolding that allow us to be the critters that we are. <br /><br />My problem with words is that we give them more power than we give the wordless, at our peril. I cannot describe (nor truly remember) the wordless bliss felt while clamming on a mudflat, surrounded by light, by smells, by the feeling of the flat under my feet, the calls of the birds eying my bounty.<br /><br />In the end, it's the world the words attempt to convey that matters, which is why stories matter so much. Stories, songs, drawings, all efforts to see if the world I know is the same as the one you do.<br /><br />doylehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12901661320505882735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4956989639073843954.post-60308068204605142032013-04-05T22:21:34.261-04:002013-04-05T22:21:34.261-04:00I am realizing how much the light influences what ...I am realizing how much the light influences what I write. I am about to put down what I'm working on and go back to another book, not because I am frustrated with the novel, but because it is so hard to get a winter feel in spring (or a summer feel in winter, for that matter). <br /><br />I don't know enough about who slaughtered my meat, but I do know that it is painful to slaughter an animal. I've one it a few times. <br /><br />I don't know enough about dust or comets for that matter. I ask, but I still don't understand. <br /><br />But I know this much: <br /><br />Your thoughts about the futility of words has hung in my head. I will read Joel and Micah and Brenna the story I wrote. They are excited about it right now. I am more into this right now than any other project before. <br /><br />And yet . . . <br /><br />What I hope they remember isn't the story so much as the experience of a dad who sat on their beds and told them a story, away from any screens. Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10956056168256756705noreply@blogger.com