Dickens has such a noble style of writing, every sentence seems steadily constructed and extremely well thought out.
"Though I now affect to make the confession philosophically, as referring to a bygone emotion, I am conscious that my pen winces a little even while I write these words. But it was done, and wisely done, and Master Humphrey's Clock, as originally constructed, became one of the lost books of the earth- which we all know,are far more precious than any that can be read for love or money."
We all have a narrator that lives inside of us, the person in our minds who tells us what is what. I wish that the voice in my life would follow the delicate and intricate truth that lies in Dickens' words. How would it be, to write your life using a perspective of such grandeur?
I fear my dabblings and descriptive droning must only have meaning to me.aning.
To write is an extraordinary gift, but thinking before you write
about how the entire picture perhaps might appear to others
is an entirely seperate gift. It seems that Charles has this necessary consideration for his readers. I hope that one day I might have that too. I know that in my life, I have met the myriad of colorful characters that deserve a place in such writing.
I met Alex at a leadership symposium my junior year in high school and we've been friends on and off since then (whenever I am home).
Alex was born in Columbia a tri-limb amputee, without arms and missing one leg. His life is such an inspiration to me, and to anyone who knows him.
For the first time in a long time I cooked a big meal for my family. Japanese curry was a success and I wouldn't have believed it unless it was eaten completely gone. There was mochi for dessert- if you don't know what that is you need to. It is a japanese rice cake filled with ice cream or sorbet- we had strawberry and mango.
On friday I joined Krista and Chrissy and the girls to ice skate, and it was a riot.
After falling over for two happy freezing hours we went down to the Ghiradelli's Chocolate shoppe where I met the future love of my life Ceaser (or was it Shane, I can't remember...)
Needless to say, I've been in a diabolical diabetical sugar coma and I am afraid for after the holiday. I had a really interesting conversation with the group of girlies for girls night- it revolved around them talking about their relationships and the dynamics therein. It was interesting to just listen and as they spewed anger and frustration I felt ironically peaceful,
perhaps because I know that somewhere... in the whole wide world,
or at north pole there is a man for me.
listen here frosty, I'm gonna ask you ONE MORE TIME- WHERE IS SANTA!?!
Merry Christmas my friends!
3 comments:
May I tell you something? I may? Oh thank you. You have a way with words that is all your own. So did Dickens, of course, but you do things to language to make it express your thoughts in their complexity and duality and all other sorts of teas. (Like that. See, I'm not terribly good at it like you are.) You've got a special and absolutely lovely brain, and it shows in the way you write. Which I like. I'm a language freak, so it took me a little while to get used to your manipulations of it, but once I did, I saw it in all its brilliance and glory. Once you know the rules, you can break them, right? =)
PS I don't think I have ever successfully read two books at once. I just can't split my literary brain enough.
anything is possible with schizophrenia
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