"The comfort, bristling with subliminal awns, of letting the being BE aside the contention, the romance, the saga, the braveries, the treacheries, the wounds, the sighs, the entreaties and the imprecations..."
Acute & Chronic(les) by Otsana - VI - Of bread, silence and perceptions (in a medieval sort of setting)
It was her non-deliberate but inescapable choice – that, of a place of comfort with known awns (1). A place of tremendous lucidity, by contrast. The contrast between traits sustained, in their own fantasized obscuration, by the barbicans of the tower of distance, and those other traits, jumping off that same stronghold, reckless and uncovered, in sight and onto the public square of all adjacencies and – also by contrast – of all confrontations.
The comfort of a state of being like one who sieves flour, adds salt and yeast, and then kneads and lets it rest so it will double in volume, to then, and only then, mold, in the precise portions, with the exact sizes and shapes, that which is meant to be baked and divided among those who expect. The comfort of letting the being BE, with the nobleness and the humility of a task that is indispensable but of which one thinks solely when it is not done, or the portion, the size and the shape do not match the expectations of those who expect.
The comfort, bristling with subliminal awns, of letting the being BE aside the contention, the romance, the saga, the braveries, the treacheries, the wounds, the sighs, the entreaties and the imprecations – but of feeling it, feeling it all in the soul; the soul, that thing that can’t be seen, and thus is as if it were not, just like the air, that thing that kills when it’s missing and can’t be seen, either, or hunger, that thing that kills when what is missing is, precisely, that which is expected from this invisible state of being – the supply of sustenance to those who expect:
-Those who are, today, warriors or troubadours of the same heroic or hysterical causes which will make of them criminals, ridiculous, or simply dead, tomorrow.
As for her, she will be, tomorrow, what she is today, in that non-deliberately but inescapably chosen place, where comfort is the courage of being prepared to feel, amidst the wheat and the rye, also the awns; alive or dead, one who makes, or used to make, of the tears wiped to flour-covered hands, simply… bread – because, of the dark red blood with which she used to write marginal texts, while perceptions were leavening, nobody will hear, just like nobody ever heard it drip from the gashes.
After all – but these are secrets that only someone who may also happen to descend from millers, or may have learned how to thresh, knows – be it from white or red wheat, the flour made is always silent, and comes from similarly dense, smooth, and white ears; with black awns at the basis.
(1) Bristle-like appendages, forming the “beard” of certain grasses and cereals – e.g. wheat. Certain awns are very pointed, and can pierce the skin, causing painful wounds.
Someone said once that "you will bake bread with the sweat of your forehead", one not only kneads the doug but also the hunger of the soul that hears the thoughs and can speak back.
Sublime as usual.
Georg
Beautiful--and deep. Just as your character Otsana is. A great bit here. One can garner the sweet smell of yeast rising. And BTW, could I get your recipe for tomato pie, Please?
Love and [[[[[[[[[[[[[[[hugs]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]],
Leland
Reviewed by Joseph* OneLight*®
8/7/2007
Xuxa, meu Amor ...
The title alone has my mind spinning. Bread, it seems, has always been one of Life's staples. It provides sustenance, security, energy and, thus, Life. It has been said that "Silence is golden" yet I'm not sure if we really appreciate it as much as we should when it falls upon us. And perception is one of the keys to understanding. May it be that we constantly perceive our lives from as many varied angles as we can find so that we continue to grow and evolve. This Otsana piece gives me a "peaceful, easy feeling", like that song by the Eagles.
From many perceptions of Love,
Teu Joseph
Reviewed by Victor Buhagiar
8/7/2007
Great character. I suppose bread making is one of the noblst art, existing since the begining of time. Enjoyed. Victor
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