rlbourges

Yeast, alive and bubbling

In Drafts, Local projects, Revision on January 21, 2014 at 7:31 am

The transitions. Why am I moving from character A in one country to character Z in another? Why at this specific point?

Something like braiding three strands of dough. The overlap. With practice, the movement is smooth, the result, flawless. A story is different. Nothing flawless about it but the accidents must look as if they were meant to be. Same with the coincidences.

Moving back and forth between languages and customs, in real life and in fiction. Things people take for granted in one country, to the extent of not even mentioning them. The same customs or habits, transposed elsewhere? Odd.

Odd. The word itself is odd. Odd one out. Why? How? Wanting in? Wanting out? Living in French, writing in English. The shuttle, back and forth.

Two boys show up for remedial schooling yesterday.With a three out of twenty average in Math, one of them feels some inclination to improve up to what he considers an honorable eight out of twenty. The other acknowledges his six in English doesn’t help his overall standing. Neither one has brought along a single school book relating to these topics. Pen, pencil, ballpoint? None. But, says one, digging into his empty school bag, I have this; and pulls out a printed sheet. From which we reviewed hours of the day and daily activities in Spanish.

Back and forth. Life, story, life, story; plus whatever sparks that something extra, away from the Spirit of Glum and mindless repetition.

(The lowest of yesterday’s low points: meeting the empty eyes of an old woman. She was sitting near a window for that endless stretch of her time between the noon-day meal and whatever planned activity awaited, somewhere up ahead, maybe. A “fun and stimulating thing to do”, suggested and organized by someone else. Or, failing that, the longer stretch up till supper and a bit of TV.)

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