A Commemoration
There are a handful of people that I will likely never forget.
Paul Long who showed me through the rigors of 5 paragraph essays that I could read a book, comprehend it, and possibly - oh my god - even enjoy it. It was solely because of this person that I pursued literature instead of science in college.
Bruce Gilman who have me the earliest confidences in my own writing ability, who drew out the darkness of my heart, allowed me to display it, and called it acceptable. Even beautiful. It was because of his complete openness with himself that I found a muse at all.
Peter Balderstone who taught me how to have a voice and use it, how to stand in a room and present a presence, how to fill a space that only felt too big. Were it not for his urging and guidance, I never would have found the lower, deeper resonations of my voice and I never would have spoken above the din of my own utterances.
Jon Han who gave me the chance that no other employer should have given a completely unknown face. It is because of his undivided trust and his strict discipline that I have excelled in the industry I did not think I could enter and could now never live without.
I am sure as the years go on, there will be more. More individuals who will pass through the landscape of my life, leaving a mark or a scar or some remnant of their presence that I will always find a way to return to. As they appear, I will attempt to gather them together, from time to time, setting up alters and lighting a bit of incense in their memory and wake.
Until then, these are the candles that are burning in the past. Shedding little strips of light along the road to where I am now.
Paul Long who showed me through the rigors of 5 paragraph essays that I could read a book, comprehend it, and possibly - oh my god - even enjoy it. It was solely because of this person that I pursued literature instead of science in college.
Bruce Gilman who have me the earliest confidences in my own writing ability, who drew out the darkness of my heart, allowed me to display it, and called it acceptable. Even beautiful. It was because of his complete openness with himself that I found a muse at all.
Peter Balderstone who taught me how to have a voice and use it, how to stand in a room and present a presence, how to fill a space that only felt too big. Were it not for his urging and guidance, I never would have found the lower, deeper resonations of my voice and I never would have spoken above the din of my own utterances.
Jon Han who gave me the chance that no other employer should have given a completely unknown face. It is because of his undivided trust and his strict discipline that I have excelled in the industry I did not think I could enter and could now never live without.
I am sure as the years go on, there will be more. More individuals who will pass through the landscape of my life, leaving a mark or a scar or some remnant of their presence that I will always find a way to return to. As they appear, I will attempt to gather them together, from time to time, setting up alters and lighting a bit of incense in their memory and wake.
Until then, these are the candles that are burning in the past. Shedding little strips of light along the road to where I am now.
2 Thought(s):
The candles of the past are so important in this endless night; this midnight patrol, this watch of sorrow we are on. It's the only light we have to see by.
And tonight is the last of those lights. Tomorrow, the darkness will be complete and we will have to have done the work, in order to know by rote which way to go.
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