You are sitting in the shade at the MacDonald’s on Tom Stuart, Rt. 666, overlooking McD’s dock. The only McD’s you know that has a dock and tables and chairs for the boat traffic. Again today you and Carol were out for an early morning walk on the beach. You love the morning colors and have a photo as your words don’t do the setting justice.
Early morning and few are out. The beach is straight and long and in that way reminds me of Ipanema Beach in Rio, at least the part where we used to park ourselves for fun and sun. That was so long ago, yet flashes of the scene pop into mind easily enough. Florida has subtle reminders of Brazil – one of the deeper reasons we return I suppose. Brazil has to be in the heart, not soul or mind even. Well, I assume so.
Not so good on your lesson today, old man. Brasil is in the soul, boy, and don’t you forget it. – Amorella.
You mean like the voices and beat of their music?
No. The people, the soul of the people (as you experienced it) is in your soul.
Soul surely can’t have the same meaning here, a social soul? That doesn’t make sense. The heart of the people has a better, clearer ring to it.
In these works it is a misuse of the heart. Heart has a measurement of early cultural (social, political, religious) programming (if you will); a part of one’s upbringing in such a culture, in any culture really. Soul notates a deeper human experience.
So, in here, the deepest human experiences are soul-felt not heart-felt?
Yes. soul-felt experiences are more universally shared among the species. This is where confusion sometimes arises within one’s heart, as the heart does not share as the soul does, at least in these books that is the way it is; otherwise, it is not so easy “to thine own self be true”. – Amorella.
This sounds like a perspective only the Dead would better understand.
We’re playing it by the book, orndorff.
This deserves my consideration. I can think of incidents in the book where this may or may not have been a consideration of the character.
Grandma’s Stories have many memories of the Dead. Being dead means more time for such studies as to why one responded as she or he did to a particular event in her or his life. A passionate embrace is not always what it seemed to be after the fact. Things happen in a heartfelt embrace that can transfer to the soul, you see, and the embrace is never what it once was. Press your right thumb lightly against your right forefinger and middle finger. Ever so lightly and you and anyone else with passion and imagination will understand. The slight physical connection between two people may be soul-felt and understood forever by the sharing. Nothing is so intimate as sharing one’s soul with another.
I am not the romantic you might think, Amorella. Too much New Age, Crystals and Flower Children for the likes of me. In fact, I find your paragraph above somewhat of an embarrassment.
That is because, for you, the paragraph hits a truth you would just as soon keep secret. Your muse commanded you open that door, boy. The secret is long out.
Laney did not command. In so many words I asked my friend and fellow British literature colleague: ‘Do I write neo-classic or romantic style?’ And, she replied, “Romantic.” That’s all there is to it.
When I think on the soul I feel threatened and weak and to be honest, more feminine than I would like. It makes me uncomfortable. Testosterone feeds in and thinking from the heart makes me feel stronger and more powerful, more Roman or Viking.
Living or Dead, honesty can never betray you in these works, son. Post.- Amorella.
“Son,” makes me uncomfortable.
Not so much as you think. Let’s leave it for now, boy. Post. – Amorella.
Our species is full of sons and daughters.
Your species can also be full of shit. Post, old man. – Amorella.
You are so funny, Amorella. It is amazing how much of a sense of humor you have. I think the origin of the word in English is ‘scilde’ or something like that. I used to bring this up in class, when I wrote “skit” on the board when we were talking about Old and Middle English (in reference to Beowulf and Chaucer’s Prologue). I talked first about ‘bole’ (an address or letter) as in a Papal Bole and how to Protestants ‘bole’ took on the meaning of nonsense. Then American farm boys hit France in the first great war of the twentieth century and heard the word ‘bole’ and thought of ‘bull’ and ‘shit’ is a word they already knew. So the famous combo: ‘bullshit’ was begun. I read this someplace but only half verified it. Sometimes we had a good time in my classes.
Late afternoon. Bill, Linda and Jean arrived bringing supper tacos and veggies. Good surprise, then everyone spent time in the pool as you did Sunday night . . .. Now, it is about sunset and the waters are gray-green. You took a photo of how it was in the morning. Drop it in here for contrast.
I did more exercising in the pool but it is hardly helpful. We had a good time, particularly with Owen. Mostly I feel tired. Writing is liberating to me. Privacy is one thing, but keeping secrets from myself uses mental energy albeit unconscious energy. The difference between the soul and heart is interesting even in fiction. It helps me to know where the deeper aspects of humanity come from and where they eventually reside. Home may be where the heart is, but it may be that the soul is sometimes elsewhere.
The soul is sharable and while it may appear to be elsewhere, and for a time it might be, think of one friend’s hand holding another friend’s hand. Souls have this nature whether one is Dead or Living. Post. – Amorella.
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