Gist: written first person from character B. about grandma A. B is moving, physical, child, about to be disillusioned by the old accumulated failures, longing for belonging.

After 4 years of saving money and waiting for pandemics and wars to be over, I finally bought a ticket for grandma to visit me in my new home on Big Island. She is only here for 7 hours today, and then she has to go to a quarantine facility in the middle of the island to ensure that she has the documents and tests to stay here for 6 more months, with me, to take care of my newborn together. She always asks about insignificant details in this plan whenever we have our roughly monthly calls (usually I call her rather than she call me, because she is always free and wanting to call me). “Thu; I’m free late afternoon. Fri-sat: I’ll be out In the forest, sorry!”

Grandma said, people are like the land they grew on, no matter they want to or not, no matter they know it or not. I think our difference comes from us growing on different land.

The stretch marks on the farther tree melt into distinct boundaries like how I blew away the sand. Any place with crisp soil that has high sand content, the people born there are not tall, their skin is pale and dry. At first glance they seem unassuming, as if they can be blown away by the wind, not persistent. But they are like sand — stubborn, and like pines that grow in sand — good at protecting their life. They are skeptical, they don’t believe what others see as stable and reliable.

dancing

On the other hand, Where does it come from for my grandma? The love nurtures indoors, in parties, tea rooms, beds. A is confused by abstract thoughts, why if they value each other do they have to part? (they cry, they fall in love easily, they change slow and stay with one spouse forever. they build houses that last. they have warm temperate climates.)

I am not interested in moving, at least the fast moving like other organisms. A human architect said he wanted to live like a tree. Every growth left a trace. I already am that way.

My grandma is a fortune teller. There was only one male customer in his astrology career. He asked about love, about where his first love is now.

she took me to her land. I really enjoyed Chicago; it was like the first time I went to Berlin. I liked it bc I felt like I could reclaim my natural personality when we were there (like being playful and having fun).

Her struggles were real. “Once people had kids, they wanted quieter lives, which makes sense. But then the two guys seemed committed to their vision of what the community should be and not the vision of what it would be as connected to these people. THe vision was constant for them, and the people were transitory. For the others, the people were constant and the vision was transitory. Not sure how to resolve this debate” and even similar anticipations “Lots of illegal stuff they do that Jon wants to help balance -> make themselves a private club and take names at the door. This way they don't need to do a damn thing to get a license to sell stuff. Right now - they could be busted at any of their parties for selling without a license.”

On music and other creations; I think honing simple principles is way more profound and sophisticated than using superficial gimmicks. I am envious she honed one career without hesitating on her choice. I got really sensitive when she said one time to my commune idea: “ i'm summarizing coz it wasn't clear for me what the main point you were trying to give. you start with A, then gave some plots with technical knowledge i understand nothing, then move back to B, then to A again” I learned that she was right, I had to iterate out my decisions instead of pondering and fine-graining in my head. “Started with 8 people, police came in and evicted everyone. BUT they didn't bring in enough shit so they didn't get them out. (This was like 20 years ago). Then they went through a more legal method -> AND got them legally kicked out, but at that point they had bought themselves 3 years bc that's how long the proceedings took. And the community was SO established that the judge was like -> you gotta do some good shit with that property, and they weren't actually kicked out.” that is my incentive to change this cooking plan.

grandma want to open and engage, but she hesitate to show shapeless or embarrassing subjectivities. “I loved listening to basketball sounds plant sounds around you, I pictured chess in the background. I am passive, passive language is to read and listen, but listening is a non linguistic reception of language. Listening gives language the drum to hit and transform itself inside the body. Can I listen with my body rather than mind? Does that require dancing?” She got this indoors too. “I think when I was a kid i would just okay really loud music and dance in the empty living room. I realllllly loved it and then discovered a similar kind of feeling when dancing improv with friends in high school and knew I wanna do more of it.”

If a question is open and relevant enough, you’d naturally think about it all the time even when you are in other places. I can’t stop thinking about you (through the story) and I feel always moving. Yet writing is supposed to be hard. I feel loving when I can fully pour my emotions and focus into a moment. The lack of distance between us, and from me to this story, that blocked me from writing a good story. Good story requires some cold distance, removal.

Biking, to freedom

I felt confused.

I run away because I have a recurring nightmare. To add another person’s world onto, into my world. To add another person onto, into me —- It feels impossible, I have a strong repulsion. I am not used to it.  Because since I was born, I have never brought a friend home. I am scared of my personal life being disturbed. When I feel even a slight imperfection in the vibe, I am anxious. To fix it, I ask the partner to teach me about something. That is a compliment. Any problem in a conversation is always my fault. To intersect worldviews, I have to not imagine how they are in my head but actually see the real them.

I felt lost, scared by people (friends) but safe, guided, connected with a tulip and many plants. I want to understand this emotion, of “other people are scary but worth it”

The difference would break us, make it impossible for us to be good for each other. • Even though they want to be close to each other, they each have to be alone. What they want and become anxious without; They survive with their solitude times, their steady and particular work loops, their way of seeing themselves, amid noise. They see the ease around artificial obstacles, and train with hard work and accumulate to mastery. Those views are not fixed neither, they adapt in a special way to their frequent new experiences. Which is why they often seem to have endless time and energy, and come to excellent creations through methodic and directed work.

but really is not confident I can answer my big question. “I still feel like I am sinfully flawed sometimes, like I have to hide my ugliness to not gross out other people. I thought people tend to get away from sick or bad people because they are dangerous or unsettling, and I didn’t want to disturb people.”

They can smell the future. They have a flaw, that is to not fill promises, because they think everything is so impermanent, changeable. The person who fulfils a will is not the one that made the will. They gave birth to many short pale children like them. The kids mature quickly, leave their parents without tears, send a hello postcard on holidays. These people have no belonging, what is important to them is what is to happen. The things that have happened, those are dead and disappeared things.