27 December 2007
Written by
Iris Watts Hirideyo (
)
Published on December 27th, 2007 @ 08:04:33 am, using 969 words, 128 views
e·piph·a·ny /ɪˈpɪfəni/ Pronunciation [i-pif-uh-nee]
–noun, plural -nies.
1. (initial capital letter) a Christian festival, observed on January 6, commemorating the manifestation of Christ to the gentiles in the persons of the Magi; Twelfth-day.
2. an appearance or manifestation, esp. of a deity.
3. a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.
4. a literary work or section of a work presenting, usually symbolically, such a moment of revelation and insight.
I guess what I’m about to relate could be perfectly described as an epiphany (def 3). They’re funny that way, epiphanies… They come to you just as the sun is setting or your day is winding down, just as you’re sure you’ve experienced all a given day had to offer. Or at least that has been my experience.
This one caught me completely unawares. And the minute it began to pervade its smoky way into my brain, I knew that it would take a while for it to shape up into words. I knew I’d have a hard time making a coherent paragraph or two out of it. You could say I feel braver and more adventurous today… even if just as unequal to the task. So bear with me, if you will.
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26 December 2007
Written by
Iris Watts Hirideyo (
)
Published on December 26th, 2007 @ 05:20:11 pm, using 43 words, 42 views
Remembering and forgetting… which is the right way to go?
How much of remembering entails nitpicking?
How much of forgetting entails denial?
18 December 2007
Written by
Iris Watts Hirideyo (
)
Published on December 18th, 2007 @ 11:19:20 am, using 1317 words, 164 views
Not being much for documentaries, I was pleasantly surprised by my on-the-spot decision to see Jogo de Cena - right at my first viewing of the trailer. The very second I felt that simple idea take charge of my head and branch out into multiple possible directions. One of those things you just have to see as a final product. When snippets here and there are simply not enough to quench your curiosity.
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16 December 2007
Written by
Iris Watts Hirideyo (
)
Published on December 16th, 2007 @ 05:06:52 pm, using 237 words, 43 views
This is one of my two favorite monologues from Six Degrees of Separation. Click here to read the first of the two.
Paul must have looked at all those names in that address book and said “I am Columbus.” “I am Magellan. I will sail into this new world.” I read somewhere that everybody on this planet is separated by only six other people. Six degrees of separation between us and everyone else on this planet. The president of the United States, a gondolier in Venice, just fill in the names. I find that extremely comforting that we’re so close, but… I also find it like Chinese water torture that we’re so close, because you have to find the right six people to make the connection. It’s not just big names, it’s anyone. A native in a rainforest, a Tierra del Fuegan, an Eskimo. I am bound - you are bound - to everyone on this planet by a trail of six people. It’s a profound thought. How Paul found us. How to find the man whose son he claims to be, or perhaps is. Although I doubt it. How everyone is a new door opening into other worlds. Six degrees of separation between us and everyone else on this planet. But… to find the right six people.
01 December 2007
Written by
Iris Watts Hirideyo (
)
Published on December 1st, 2007 @ 06:03:52 am, using 293 words, 56 views
Retreating into one’s little hole can do the trick.
She lives with an orange tree and a girl that does yoga
she picks the dead ones from the ground when we come over
and she gives I get without giving anything to me
like a morning sun
like a morning
like a morning sun
like a good good morning sun
the girl that does yoga
when we come over
the girl that does yoga
He lives in a little house on the side of a little hill
picks the litter from the ground, litter little brother spills
he gives I get without giving anything to me
and the dogs they run
and the dogs they
and the dogs they run
in the good good morning sun
side of a little hill
litter little brother spills
side of a little hill
And she’s always dressed in white
she’s like an angel man she burns my eyes
when she turns she pulls a smile
we drive her ’round man she drives us wild
and she moves like a little girl
I become a child man she moves my world
and she gets splashed in paint and turns away and
leaves me standing…
She lives with an orange tree and a girl that does yoga
got a wolf to keep her warm when he comes over
she gives he gets without giving anything to see
and the day it ends
and the day it
and the day it ends
and there’s no need for me
with a girl that does yoga
when we come over
with a girl that does yoga
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