8/8/08

Sister Morgan, I think it's a dream.

Between your beautiful book I read this morning and the picture you put to the side of this blog, I'm feeling quite homesick. I loved seeing even furthur into your heart by reading your book. I could hear your voice in many parts as well; thanks again. I'm curious: what is the only line you wouldn't change? There were many beautiful similes and images. Not surprising.
I keep thinking that I'm living a bad dream too. But I don't want to feel this way, so I implemented our deal. I found one thing that I like about this place. I know that I'm supposed to have two more--I'm working on it.
I like all of the culture. Asian people, black people, chinese people--it's all here, and it's great. I'll keep looking.
~Jami~

4 comments:

Sky said...

E-mail me ASAP about the credit thing. You're on the blog, but not reading your e-mail.

Good job about finding the one good thing. You have a few hours left to find two more. What specifically appeals to you about the minorities you're passing on the street? Their clothes? Their eyes? The way they walk? Later today, I'm posting two cool fawns I watched from across the river. Today, for me, 1) Patch is lying on his side, one paw on my leg, snoring like a big fat man (or woman; whew, I almost forgot I'm writing to Jami). 2} Beau called and talked to me about different levels of darkness. Deep conversation, way over my head, but I love love the sound of his voice and could picture him pacing as he talked, with his head tilted to one side. 3) Hmmmm...OK, I'll get back to you on this one. but I promise I'll find something I can say a resounding "yes" to before nightfall.
The passage I wouldn't change is on pg.36-37, because it's so accurate. It makes up for pg 86, where I actually watered down the experience because I was aware many of my students from the University of Mn would buy and read the book. I feel I sold out to let them drink milk. I did not "realize" my greatest gift like I said. I actually heard a voice speaking that sentence. But, it's probably not the last writing mistake I'll make. OK, wait, I have number three: Hearing from you today and seeing that amazing portrait of Ivor. (I would be afraid of Dan painting me for fear he'd show all the dark corners in my heart. He really captured Ivor.)

iBo said...

Jami! Now that you're in a big city you can do all the big city things that I love! I don't know if they're specifically transferable from city to city, but the principle still applies.So here are a few ideas of things you may like and then fall in love with about the city.

If you want to indulge the artistic writer side of you, go wander the city until you find a cafe somewhere that over looks water and sit down and just write. Rexburg doesn't really have any place like that, so take advantage of it. Even more fun is to write while sitting on the bus in the rain, and then when you're in the downtown core in the rain, just take a moment to look up at the rain and see how the rain draws parallel lines with the buildings above, and drink in the sounds of the city's lifeblood.

If it's a hot summer day, find a starbucks and get a strawberry frappucino and just enjoy all of its fatty goodness. Or you could run into a mall or two downtown and just wander wherever (make sure you kind of know where you're going...it IS a city after all). A library downtown, or a museum, streetside performers, vendors, artists. Go look for the artist district of town--always a million and a half things to capture the attention there.

Or you could hop on a bus and see where it takes you. Once you get wherever, get out and explore. Who knows what you'll find.

Any combination of that is fun.

Wow. I miss my city.

E. Anona said...

Hi Jami~I'm pretty close to you, in Washington D.C./Virginia right now. I forget how squished these Eastern states are. Anyway, by all means wander. I've tried to see some of the sights but it gets tricky with a new baby. And I'm scared of getting irretrievably lost on the Metro.
Miss you.
-Anona

Sarah said...

Now I will have to find your book again to read it. What a treasure. It should be required reading for seminar.