5 thoughts on “Friday, September 9, 2022

  1. Erratum: Towards the end of today’s 10-Minute Story it should read “not-Bulkington” instead of “not-Melville”.

    Alex: Have you seen a 2013 film called Adjust Your Tracking: The Untold Story of the VHS Collector (of mostly horror)? Well worth a look.

  2. Xicano: Glad that tree arm didn’t break your arm! Looks like you have a better view of the beautiful moon without that huge tree limb. 🌳

  3. W.G. Poem-a-Day: “who were these goddesses about”
    by Jeannette L. Clariond, translated by Samantha Schnee

    They were so called because they wore god’s mask, and be-
    cause their faces and hearts were resolute as stone. For days,
    years, they walked with jade beneath their tongues, seeking
    home. They worked the land and bejeweled their bodies. Not
    as a sign of vanity, but because they tended the amaranth in
    their yearning for fire. Xiuhtecuhtli was their god; xiuhtlatoa
    their language, meaning “words of fire”—that which ignites
    the heart. They were careful not to use xaltlatoa, “words of
    sand”, fleeting, vague and un-understandable. At night
    they accompanied the Sun on his descent. They were jade,
    translucent, and purified the underworld, deciphering dest-
    iny. Their essence dwelt in the Afterlife. Their petals arose in
    song. They adorned their Home with hymns and flowers and
    filled their desire with vision, fine chalice of the sagacious
    seed. The upper half of their bodies naked; Their breasts
    were buds of omexĂłchitl and their verdant dreams the
    sprigs of a birch. From their legs blossomed the pure wh-
    ite feathers of the quetzal. Coatlicue, the goddess mother,
    gave birth to the Sun and Moon. With a sword of fire, the
    Sun beheaded the Moon and tossed her body down
    the steps, shattering it in a thousand pieces, Coyolxauhqui
    covered head to toe in shining rattles of vipers. She fell
    and entered darkness. And so it was recorded on the
    tree of ámatl: Light and shadow will not last. So says
    the history of woman: she sought to recreate what
    was within her to rewrite the Book:
    The song will be reborn
    in each body in such a way that we learn
    to redefine what is ours, as our daughters will,
    too, and our daughters’ daughters, and their
    daughters’ daughters will know that their
    bodies are light on Earth, heat of the sun with
    its tona, energy, fecundity, song that dances
    along the perimeter of stars. And so, they watch
    over us from the firmament at dusk and dawn
    as the sun is born and dies. These goddess
    -es of water were destined to be masters
    of their own desire, guides of their own
    light. We must engrave on our hearts:
    The place where goddesses are born.

    “sobre quiĂ©nes eran estas diosas”

    Las llamaban así por ser portadoras de la máscara del dios, y
    por tener un rostro propio y un corazĂłn firme como la
    piedra. Soles, años caminaron con el jade bajo su lengua en
    pos de la Casa. Labraron la tierra y adornaron sus cuerpos
    con joyeles de oro, no como sĂ­mbolo de vanidad, sino por
    ser cuidadoras del amaranto en su anhelo de flama. Xiuh-
    tecuhtli era su dios; xiuhtlatoa, su lengua, lo cual quiere
    decir «palabra de fuego», esa que enciende el corazón. El-
    las cuidaban de no usar la xaltlatoa, «palabra de arena»,
    que escurridiza huye sin dejarse aprehender. Por las no-
    ches acompañaban en su descenso al Sol. Ellas eran el
    jade y eran la transparencia, purificaban el inframundo
    y descifraban el sino. En el Más Allá moraba su funda-
    mento. Sus pétalos en cantos se alzaban. Con himnos y
    flores ornaban su Casa y su deseo llenaban de visiĂłn, fino
    cáliz de fulgor y semilla. Llevaban la mitad de su cuerpo sin
    cubrir; eran brotes de omexóchitl sus senos y su sueño, verde
    yema de tepozán. Y de sus piernas florecían las blanqu-
    Ă­simas plumas de quetzal. AsĂ­ fue que Coatlicue, diosa
    madre, dio a luz al Sol y a la Luna. Con su espada de fuego,
    Ă©l decapitĂł a la Luna, y por la escalinata su cuerpo rodĂł, y se
    fragmentĂł en mil pedazos. Coyolxauhqui yacĂ­a toda re-
    cubierta de radiantes cascabeles de sierpe. Al caer,
    entrĂł en la oscuridad. Y por ello ha quedado
    grabado en el árbol del «ámatl»: Transitoria será
    la luz y su sombra. Dice asĂ­ la historia de la mujer:
    buscĂł rehacer su interioridad pra reescribir el Libro:
    El canto renacerá en cada cuerpo de forma que
    aprendamos a resignificar el propio, y asĂ­ nuestras hijas,
    y las hijas de nuestras hijas, y las hijas de sus hijas,
    sabrán que su cuerpo es luz en Tierra, calor de Sol
    con su tona, energĂ­a, fecundaciĂłn, canto que danza
    en derredor de las estrellas. Es asĂ­ que nos vigil-
    an desde el firmamento cada mañana y cada
    noche, al nacer y al caer el Sol. Las diosas del
    agua tenían como propio ser dueñas
    de su deseo, guĂ­as de su luz. Y asĂ­ lo
    habremos de inscribir en nuestros
    corazones:
    Lugar donde nacen las diosas.

  4. Thank you, Catalina. One book always leads to another. Looking up Clariond, I saw she’s the founder of Vaso Roto books, and one of their books is a translation (by Clariond) into Spanish of Anne Carson’s “Economy of the Unlost (Reading Simonides of Keos with Paul Celan)” in which she (or Simonides?) writes: “Sometimes you can see a celestial object better by looking at something else, with it, in the sky.” (viii) Another book to add to my TBR.

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