I don't talk things, sir. I talk the meaning of things.”
― Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451
The meaning of things is what interests me the most, about everything. I don't go looking for meanings, that puts a skew on things that removes authenticity. I wait for those feelings to come to me in their time, to show themselves. I love this quote.
“You're not like the others. I've seen a few; I know. When I talk, you look at me. When I said something about the moon, you looked at the moon, last night. The others would never do that. The others would walk off and leave me talking. Or threaten me. No one has time any more for anyone else. You're one of the few who put up with me. That's why I think it's so strange you're a fireman, it just doesn't seem right for you, somehow.”
― Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451
Yes. You are different. You're not like the others. You pay attention. I didn't know how to take that at first, when we began to talk. It's been almost a year...did you know? And that line, "you're one of the few who put up with me". I hope it's not all "putting up with". But I appreciate it for what it is.
“What are the best things and the worst things in your life, and when are you going to get around to whispering or shouting them?”
― Ray Bradbury, Zen in the Art of Writing: Essays on Creativity
Exactly. When? I ask this of myself as well. Here, I shout the worst things...and I allude in whispers to the rest. This quote unsettles me. I like that. I want to think and to let those feelings and meanings come to me. Even though it frightens me a little.
“She didn't want to know how a thing was done, but why.... Luckily, queer ones like her don't happen often.”
― Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451
Am I queer? I've wondered at times and especially each time I read this book. Is it unusual to want to know the meaning of things? The why, more than the how? The how is obvious, or more easily found. The WHY, the motive, the drive, the desire...that's what I want to see. Show me yourself. Show myself to my own self as well.
“My gosh, if you’re going away, we got a million things to talk about! All the things we would’ve talked about next month, the month after! Praying mantises, zeppelins, acrobats, sword swallowers!”
― Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine
“And when he died, I suddenly realized I wasn't crying for him at all, but for the things he did. I cried because he would never do them again...”
― Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451
My biggest sorrow, and fear. People frighten me. I have to be honest and admit that. Because, when I care about them, when I let someone in, I've carved out a space for them to have as their own. Not to control, not to own, just a space to be, inside of me. There are very few people I've done that with...4 that I can think of. Well, 5, but one is gone.
This thought was what struck me the hardest the night my mum died. As I lay in bed, just staring at the ceiling in the dark, holding my sister as we said nothing because there was nothing that could be said, nothing that words could speak...it hit me, this thought. Mum would never fuss at me about anything anymore. Never cook for me again, pat my bum while I did the dishes in her kitchen, never call me "punkin", hold me, stroke my hand, my head, my hair. I'd never hold her close and smell her own sweet soapy tobacco smell, call her, watch her turn something dull or ordinary into something beautiful and warm, lovely, in two small swipes of her capable, amazing hands. And a part of me began to ache, so deep inside...it's never stopped. It never will.
When someone leaves my life, I'm always struck immediately at what their leaving means. No more conversations. No more hugs. No more laughter, sharing life, thoughts, hurts, love. No more knowledge of their family, no more visits. To never see their home again, their smile, to share their dreams...it's why it's hard for me to let anyone in like that. But, these 4...they are in. I carefully considered. And I chose.
“He glanced back at the wall. How like a mirror, too, her face. Impossible; for how many people did you know who reflected your own light to you? People were more often--he searched for a simile, found one in his work--torches, blazing away until they whiffed out. How rarely did other people's faces take of you and throw back to you your own expression, your own innermost trembling thought?”
― Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451
It is, quite simply, what it is.
“We have everything we need to be happy but we aren't happy. Something is missing...
It is not books you need, it's some of the things that are in books. The magic is only in what books say, how they stitched the patches of the universe together into one garment for us.”
― Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451
Books. They open our minds, our hearts, our lives. At what point does paper begin to burn?
“From now on I hope always to stay alert, to educate myself as best I can. But lacking this, in Future I will relaxedly turn back to my secret mind to see what it has observed when I thought I was sitting this one out. We never sit anything out.
We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled. The trick is, knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out. ”
― Ray Bradbury
Never sit anything out. Even if we choose not to participate, we still are choosing a way through that time. Let the beautiful stuff out. Show it. Share it.
“Every time you take a step, even when you don't want to. . . . When it hurts, when it means you rub chins with death, or even if it means dying, that's good. Anything that moves ahead, wins. No chess game was ever won by the player who sat for a lifetime thinking over his next move.”
― Ray Bradbury, Farewell Summer
For me, right now. Facing the biggest steps of my life...no, not facing. Taking. The feet are already on the path, the choice is already made and the movement has already begun.
Movement. It's life.
“I like to watch people. Sometimes I ride the subway all day and look at them and listen to them. I just want to figure out who they are and what they want and where they're going.”
― Ray Bradbury
Why I like the mall. People that I am close, so close, to may frighten me, but overall, people fascinate me. Look at the windows...what's behind them? What do they think? What does happy smell like to them? I want to know.
“I just want someone to hear what I have to say. And maybe if I talk long enough, it’ll make sense.”
― Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451
The words of my former spouse, so generously given to me the day he left the papers hidden on the counter...Who knows? he said. Maybe some day you'll even find someone who can get along with you, make sense out of you.
Maybe. Maybe some day, as I pour things out in this blog, maybe i'll begin to make sense to myself. Or anyone.
The father hesitated only a moment. He felt the vague pain in his chest. If I run, he thought, what will happen? Is Death important? No. Everything that happens before Death is what counts. And we've done fine tonight. Even Death can't spoil it.”
― Ray Bradbury, Something Wicked This Way Comes
Everything that happens before Death is what counts.
“My stories run up and bite me on the leg—I respond by writing down everything that goes on during the bite. When I finish the idea lets go and runs off.”
― Ray Bradbury
Oh, God. Yes. Yes yes yes.
“Quantity produces quality. If you only write a few things, you're doomed.”
― Ray Bradbury
If you want to write, write. Write everything. Write all the time. Do it. The more you do it, the more it's done.
“If you enjoy living, it is not difficult to keep the sense of wonder.”
― Ray Bradbury
Life is incredibly amazing. Beautiful. Wonderful. Painful. Funny. Horrible.
“A lot will be lost that way, of course.
But you can't make people listen. They have to come round in their own time, wondering what happened and why the world blew up under them.”
― Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451
Word.
“I want to wake people up and make them care about being alive in this universe.”
― Ray Bradbury
I want to see it happen. I want to watch it happen, see their face, the look in their eyes, see their body change, hear the hiss of breath as they realize and take one as if it were the first ever. And I want to write about it.
“If I’d found out that Norman Mailer liked me, I’d have killed myself. I think he was too hung up. I’m glad Kurt Vonnegut didn’t like me either. He had problems, terrible problems. He couldn’t see the world the way I see it. I suppose I’m too much Pollyanna, he was too much Cassandra. Actually I prefer to see myself as the Janus, the two-faced god who is half Pollyanna and half Cassandra, warning of the future and perhaps living too much in the past—a combination of both. But I don’t think I’m too over optimistic.”
― Ray Bradbury
Why I like Ray Bradbury.
“Life is trying things to see if they work.”
― Ray Bradbury
Nothing to say. It's true.
“It shouldn't work. It shouldn't be magic. You shouldn't weep happy and then sad and then happy again.
But you do. And I do. And we all do.”
― Ray Bradbury
I do. I have today, a few times. I'm struggling with daughter, worried about other daughter, feeling things that I have never felt before, doing things I've never done. I laugh, then cry, shake and jump in excitement. And now, I'm going to go to bed.
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