Tag Archives: stories

Days of Rhyme and Reason

 

There are more than 7 billion people in the world. I believe there are more than 7 billion, billion stories to be told. Some people are masterful with the written word. Some stories can only be properly told orally or visually. Sometimes that story takes generations to find a conclusion. And sometimes they never do.

My mother used to say that she was not artistic. She felt that she couldn’t paint or write stories. And yet my mother’s story was told through her children. And even though she is gone, her story lives on. I happen to think it is a wonderful story. Especially the way it intertwines with mine.

My story does include paintings that have evolved as I have evolved. My story also includes writing. The very first poem that I ever wrote was:

Eyes like a Hawk

Ears like a fox

Legs like a deer

To run through the year

I may have been eight when I wrote this. But I was proud of it. And so were my parents. They encouraged me. But my angst got in the way and I didn’t write again for many decades. My mother’s father wrote poetry during World War I. We found the originals a few years ago. I thought they were quite spectacular but then I’m probably biased. He was my grandfather!

My brother and I both paint and we both write. Our forms are quite different. My sister doesn’t paint or write but she is an incredible party planner. We all have our strengths. And we all tell our story differently and to different people. It’s like bumblebees moving from blossom to blossom to pollinate. They deposit something and they take something away from each encounter. I guess you could say they spread the love. Our stories interact with others and in doing so becomes part of their story and theirs with ours.

We need each other to survive but it is our individuality that ensures that survival. The problem is that there are some people who don’t quite understand. As I have said in the past the ‘big picture’ is a mosaic made up of a lot of ‘little pictures’. And there are more than 7 billion of them. I wonder how many it would be if we were to count the stories of those who have gone.

As long as we remember those in our past they will live on. Their story will not die. Now is that not a form of immortality?

Stories To Tell . . .

 

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         Who was the first person to tell the first story? When people learned to communicate they learned to tell others what was happening around them. Eventually they learned to tell others what wasn’t there. People learned to lie.

Over the years individuals have excelled at telling stories. Some are sad, some poignant and some funny. The really good ones have aspects of all three. Of course this is my opinion. That is after all the one thing I personally excel at: voicing my opinion. In our lives we need, occasionally, to be uplifted, to be inspired. Stories can do this. We all have stories to tell, personal ones or fictional ones, it doesn’t matter. What is important is that the telling of our stories allows us to interact with each other.

Stories allow us to indulge in fantasies, experience places, people or things that we would not otherwise have a chance to. In a story I can be young and beautiful, walk through waves on the beach or even hike in the Himalayas. The only limits are those imposed by my own mind. There are those who would shake their heads and mutter that this is pure escapism and we should not condone it. People must learn to live in the real world with it’s real problems. To a certain extent that is correct. We do need to accept the real world with it’s and our problems. But that does not mean we can’t have a little escapism in our lives. Why do you think authors and filmmakers do what they do? People want a little escapism, they need a little escapism.

In the same way that sleep allows us to recharge our biological engines, stories allow us to recharge our psychological engines. Stories can inspire us, relax us, or even make us mad as hell. As our bodies require exercise, so too do our minds.

People will always have a need to tell others . . . something. Most of us do not do well in isolation. We are a pack animal. To that end we tell stories to teach, to entertain and to communicate.  

Stories

deer sketch

Over the years some individuals have excelled at telling stories.  Some are sad, some poignant and some funny.  The really good ones have aspects of all three.  Of course this is my opinion.  That is after all the one thing I personally excel at, voicing my opinion.  In our lives we need, occasionally, to be uplifted, to be stimulated. Stories can do this.  We all have stories to tell, personal ones or fictional ones, it doesn’t matter.  What is important is that the telling of our stories allows us to reach out to another.

Stories allow us to indulge in fantasies, experience places, people or things that we would not otherwise have a chance to.  In a story I can be young and beautiful, walk through waves on a beach or even hike in the Himalayas.  The only limits are those imposed by my own mind.  There are those who would shake their heads and mutter that this is pure escapism and we should not condone it.  People must learn to live in the real world with its real problems.  Why? Is the real world such a great place? To a certain extent that is correct, we do need to accept the real world with its, and our, problems.  But that does not mean we can’t have a little escapism in our lives.  Why do you think authors and filmmakers do what they do?  People want a little escapism, they need a little escapism.

In the same way sleep allows us to recharge our biological engines, stories allow us to recharge our psychological engines.  Stories can inspire us, relax us, or even make us mad as hell.  As our bodies require exercise, so too do our minds.  What we read or see can make us think. Thinking often leads to talking and talking forces us to think.   A lovely circle I think.