Mid-morning. A blue and windy sky. You have a character reference to write, exercises and the lawn to mow once the grass dries from yesterday’s rains. Later, dude. – Amorella
Late afternoon. You wrote the reference and sent it, did thirty-five minutes of modified aerobics, and mowed the grass. Carol had a Graeter’s and you had a kid’s strawberry sorbet, only a hundred and fifty calories, half that of a kid’s ice cream.
Beautiful day to work in the yard as well as to sit and relax by the garage as the robins have a nest under the roof of the front porch. Yesterday we had two inches of rain according to our frog rain gauge. That’ll keep everything green and growing.
Later. I was looking over my blog stats and this one comes up being read by someone almost every week. I am not sure why but the focus is on what I may need to have been reminded of in Scene 9; by the way I have completely forgotten what this scene is supposed to be about other than it ends the Merlyn and Arthur segment in Avalon. Here is what I think was important in that posting of 3 November 2009. Wow, 2009, that was almost two and a half years ago. What have I been doing? Where have I been in the meantime?
That’s what your notes can be used for, to show that even though you don’t have much memory at the moment you can take time to read up on your life if you wish. – Amorella
I doubt that it is important enough to read up on. In any case this is what I gleaned from that posting that appears to be relevant to the series today.
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In my deepest inner self . . . I would have to say before an angel or G---D, “I really do not know.” As such, under these conditions, I can honestly say, “I think I am mostly fiction. In fact, the more I think into it the more unsure I am of my total conscious/unconscious reality, therefore I feel I may be even more fiction than not.”
You think you would say this to G---D or to an Angel of G---D?
I do. I’m POed enough to say it now.
Perhaps we can use this in book four, The Rebellion. A lead character rebels not against G---D but against what sheorhe considers a false truth about herorhis sense of self. The character has no place to go except to others of the Dead who feel and understand that their predicament or circumstance is that it is seemingly impossible to define one’s sense of self accurately.
It is impossible in life, and impossible in death also. Therefore, says this new leader of the Dead, let us go back into the world of the living so that we the Dead may better find the truth of our circumstances so that we might share this with our children, the Living. What do you think, orndorff?
In my present anger it sounds reasonable. I will have to give the concept more thought.
From: Blog Posting: 3 November 2009
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This suddenly reminds me of what was written in yesterday’s posting:
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“Our species survives, as individuals we survive through ‘secret and not so secret’ self-deceptions that allow us to be who we are, both outwardly and inwardly. I think consciously intelligent humanoid aliens like those marsupials in the Merlyn’s Mind stories would observe us (in real life) to be a very frightening species – perhaps too cleverly self-deceptive for our own good. It is no wonder someone created/developed the book of Genesis in the Bible. What an excellent story that has somehow, I think, become a curse.”
From: 14 April 12 posting
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I realize this is out of bounds but again, I am suddenly reminded of something Dr. John Coulter, head of the Department of English at Otterbein College told me as I was one of his many students in the early sixties – one time after reading one of my published poems he looked at me strangely and said, “What are you doing, orndorff, trying to rewrite the Bible?” Now, here I am, in essence and on the sly, rewriting the Genesis story of a Satan-pricked Eve and Adam in the Garden of Eden (through Merlyn’s dreams) in a quite slanted human flavor – an understated human rebellion in heaven rather than a grand angelic rebellion against God. As Amorella is picking my brain for original personal source writing material this is what I see. Mostly I think it is from my love of Milton’s Paradise Lost rather than the biblical story.
Nothing is out of bounds in the blog, boy, but the politeness in your nature prevents some of your thoughts being transcribed. You cannot remember the poem that triggered Dr. Coulter’s remark. Later, before bed. You found the poem and I concur this is probably the poem that caught his attention. You had this published in the Otterbein College Quiz and Quill in 1962 or 1964. You think it was the earlier date but you cannot find the issue. You did have it republished in 1965 Anthology of College Poetry, “America Sings”, National Poetry Press, May issue. Dennis Hartman, editor, Los Angeles, California, page 60. This was the Anthology’s fifteenth year and the first with a Spring issue.
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ECHOES Richard Orndorff Otterbein College
click – from the high of quiet mountains
Gabriel shouts the Word of God.
and the Word roars low
into the deep of lonesome valleys.
clack – the heavens darken with Holy shadows
and quakes rumble throughout Hell
as the piercing light of God
is lased into the dark of a virgin’s womb.
clock – a shimmering manger swings softly
with reflective beats from the burning star;
and, as a Jesus is born in baby time
the sky goes gone with one more boom.
From: 1965 Anthology of College Poetry, "America Sings", p. 60
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I am pretty sure it was published in the Q & Q in the Spring issue 1962 because “laser” was a relatively new word and I wanted to write a poem around it so I did. Dr. John Coulter was one of my two favorite teachers at Otterbein. I took sixty semester hours of English in those years, twice what I needed for a major, and the majority of the classes were from Dr. Coulter. He was a wonderful man. I saw him in the 1980’s, I stopped and visited and he had a class that he left when he saw me at the door (I was just going to stop by and say hello). He gave the class some reading time and we went to his office and talked for thirty or forty minutes, mostly sharing stories of our lives like old friends. He died of a heart attack about six weeks later before he had a chance to grade his students’ final essays. He did not like grading essays and he told me he hoped he died first. My best teacher of English, John Coulter: I salute his humanity, his spirit still.
This is a good place to end today’s posting, orndorff. I wrote you once that if you were to die before finishing the first three books, Thomas Robert Pringle would take over and do the writing. One connection, I wrote at that time, was that you both had John Coulter for class. It is in your notes back a few years, certainly before 2006. Bob agreed he would take over and he was honored that I chose him (as were you). – Amorella
I was honored. Bob wrote to you a couple of times and you responded. He asked you questions and you responded. That was rather strange now that I think about it. I don’t know if Bob was just playing along because he was such a good friend or not. The episode appeared authentic to me at the time. Bob was concerned that he would not know how to proceed but you wrote (to the effect) that his memories and mind would change the story but it would be the same story as far as you, Amorella, was concerned.
I have mentioned to you more than once that anyone could write the stories I direct but it would be through herorhis own personal voice. The story has to have the authenticity of a human writer, otherwise how would it be understandable to the few humans who were interested. – Amorella
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