autumn twilight
… where the water meets the sea, between the worlds, within the void …autumn twilight
… where the water meets the sea, between the worlds, within the void …The Door into Fire
I’ve just finished reading “The Door into Fire” by Diane Duane again, and I’m touched and transformed by the wisdom within it. I always forget how it speaks to me, how it unfolds and awakens. there is such beauty in the world that is described. I can not hope to do it justice.
Her world, like ours, is flawed. It’s inhabitants are flawed. The very truth of these flaws, their honesty, is refreshing and powerful, but the real beauty comes from an understanding of one of the few truths I hold dear. The power to love is the gift that redeems us as citizens of this universe. All our greatness comes from our emotion, and it is in love that we stand silently victorious over the chaos of the world.
“How She must love us, To share with us all, to give us so very much — I can’t understand it. Just for my own part, even. What incredible thing have I done, or will I do, to earn — to deserve such, such blessing, so much love….”
… read the rest
Crossing part 2 (Story) (fragment)
I emerge from the box, wrapping the cloak around me tightly, my bare feet sinking into the cold slush on the black ground. There is a bright light streaming down from a little above me, coming out of some boxlike thing attached to the outside of the building. There is much more light in the main causeway, but the sounds and feelings of the spirits have left. It is deserted.
I walk out of the small pathway, my feet pushing through the snow, as though they were questing for the cool earth beneath, but encountered only the strange black paving. There are more lights here, of all shapes and colors. The light is dazzling to my eyes. Not as harsh or bright as the cruel sun of this place, but disorienting. The light comes from everywhere, but doesn’t seem to illuminate much at all. The black street is mostly free of snow, as if it cleared itself, or as if the snow could not last upon it.
I look up to the sky, and there are no clouds, but there are also no stars. The buildings rise all around me, but I can see the sky. There are no stars. I shudder against the thought. Where do these spirits find inspiration? Where do they gaze when waiting for Her to communicate with them? I pull the hood of the cloak over my head and begin to walk North, through the city. There is nobody present, only a stillness as eerie as the place itself. Before crossing I had sensed the abundance of spirits here. But now, almost none at all. Those spirits that I could feel around me were in buildings, moving slowly. None of them with the power that I had come looking for. I could feel power under the black streets though, sleeping deep within the earth. There were spots, north, where it spiked up, reaching to the surface before moving deeply beneath it again.
I walked toward those. Surely, if there were spirits of power here, they would be near the power. Quietly, I set off towards them.
To Alex Sanchez
I wrote this to Author Alex Sanchez a few minutes ago. As I re-read it, I realized that these words are meant for him, but also meant to be shared. Thus, it is now and open letter of appreciation.
Dear Mr. Sanchez,
Thank you for your book Rainbow Boys, and for the rest of them (which I will be reading shortly).
I, like so many gay men, did not have the resources, awareness, or support of a community during my adolescence. For me, the result of this has led to years of discovery, exploration, and an intense focus on supporting and healing the wounds of the gay community, most particularly I feel drawn to the support of gay youth.
Having finished Rainbow Boys today, I say with only slight sadness that I wish I had been able to read it when I was in High School. I have long since grown to forgiveness and even found strength in the challenges I faced growing up, but there is always this part of me that would like it to have been different.
Reading your portrayal of strong, scared, courageous, and loving young men touches a part of me that cherishes the strength we must each find to write our own coming out stories, every day of our lives. It reminds me that the world changes, through the efforts and work of every brave child, through the shared suffering of generations, we are changing things for the better. I am reminded how much work there still is to do, and how many scared, loving young men there still are in this world today.
Thank you for reminding me that the stories don’t always end badly, and that sometimes, they end rather nicely. Thank you for helping to bring resources and courage to young men everywhere, for helping them to realize that they aren’t alone. It is words like yours that give me hope for myself, and my family.
Ta kya te, (My heart is open to you)
Theo Geer
Gay Superhero: Need I say Mo(o)re?
I finished reading Hero by Perry Moore yesterday. I immediately (well, as soon as I got home) handed it to George and said “You are required to read this book immediately.” His response was a snarky “Yes Sir.” but I feel pleasantly confident that he is obeying at this very moment. But why did I demand he read a book about a gay superheros young adulthood? Because it’s the best book I’ve read this year.
Seriously. And I’ve read some amazing books this year. Like Wicked, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, and The House of Gaian (I plan on writing more about this one at another time.) Perry Moore is the wonderful man who was executive producer for The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. He doesn’t appear to have written anything other than Hero and a companion book to Narnia. I can’t tell you how sad this makes me, but I have hope for the future.
So about the book. Thom Creed is the sun of a Hero who has been publicly shamed (you get the full details later in the book.) His mother left them years ago. Thom is an all-around good kid. You get the impression that he gets good grades. He’s the star of the basketball team, he volunteers in a literacy program, works several part-time jobs, you get the picture. Very subtly, Thom begins to develop a super-power, although it manifests sporadically and causes him to have seizures in very inopportune moments. Thoms father, Hal, aka Major Might, doesn’t approve of super-powers in general.
As if that wasn’t enough, Thom is gay, very aware that he’s gay, and lives in a community/world where being a fag is simply unacceptable. In an early scene that cuts to the bone, you see Thoms memory of his father explaining that gay people are what’s wrong with the world.
The story really begins when Thom accidentally helps the Dark Hero rescue some passengers from some super-villans who hijack the bus he is on. When the A-list Super-Hero’s show up and finish the rescue they invite Thom to try out for their exclusive super-hero league, of which his father will of course, never approve.
Full of humor, poignant commentary, the angst and sorrow of a closeted teen, and the drive to do the right thing that makes a Hero, this book speaks volumes to me. It reminds me of some of the challenges I’ve faced in my life, and some that I was lucky enough not to have to face.