i have been really struggling with the story "amphibious." perhaps i have been too ambitious, and have been attempting to incorporate too many symbolic elements. and writing about the distant past is extremely difficult; admittedly, all retrospective literature requires a kind of reconstruction and fabrication, but there's a certain level of plausibility that must be maintained- and, in the pitched battle of writing a story, it's easy to forget where that level is... i at times sit and just write out "scaffolding" (plot lines) over and over and over. in the car, i turn off the music, and will just think about the question "what's next", and attack plot lines from all angles. it's frustrating, depressing.

there are two paths to writing a story, or rather, there are two minds. one, which i term the intuitive path, involves both the flash and flow of insight. i wish i could write in this state all the time, but unfortunately, the "river runs dry." still, a piece of this aspect must be incorporated into a story, or there is no "inspiration," no feeling, and without feeling, the story dies. the second path is the analytical path, the path of the editor or critic. this is the "hedge trimmer." it doesn't have life in and of itself, but it can see the shape of things, and can discern incompatibilities, implausibilities. i think the union of these two paths can produce something interesting- if they don't wind up "killing" each other in the process.

i am excellent at critiquing my own work. perhaps too good. i think i am at the point where i can't write a paragraph without giving up, knowing that i'm heading for the cutting blade of analysis...

***

i watched part of a video on north korea. if you haven't heard, the two asian american journalists have been sentenced to 12 years of hard labor. i'd like to be hopeful, but considering north korea's "face-saving" and belligerent (to the point of irrationality) behavior, i don't think it's likely that the u.s. can reason and negotiate to free them. we've already applied pressure to try to get n. korea to stop missile testing, etc., and that hasn't worked. besides, sanctions tend to only hurt the n. korean populace (not the elites); famine-stricken and dying.

i heard on npr that you can google n. korea (google-map). you can see the palatial estates of the elites. and, in one region, you can see a large "street market" that has spontaneously come into being over the years. i read recently that pyongyang was stymied (or at least delayed) in its efforts to regulate such markets because of overwhelming protests. a sign that the "great leader" is perhaps being questioned?

again, i watched part of a video on north korea. you should see it. it's called "welcome to north korea," and it is on youtube. it lasts about an hour. in any case, it has unprecedented footage inside north korea. one of the most poignant and representative scenes, i felt, was a single policewoman (traffic cop) in the middle of an intersection (she was circled in white), directing traffic in a DEAD city. NO cars. that's what much of the tour was like for these journalists; visiting huge expensive monuments, in which they were practically the only visitors...

***

again, i have been feeling an overwhelming sadness and depression at times.

charlotte joko beck (an american zen writer/priest/whatever) once wrote something about suffering. she said that most of the pain ("suffering") we feel comes from resisting or emoting or otherwise not properly sinking in to the moment. but if we become suffering, then suffering disappears. it's just us.

i know i've felt this. i need to feel this again.

i've been talking about calm. yeah, outwardly, i'm pretty calm. but inside, i'm sometimes so sad and tired that i'm rebelling, screaming even, for the moments to pass into oblivion. but i try to tell myself to "calm" and "sink." i literally feel myself sinking inside my own skin, into the skin of the moment. and it makes me feel "better" or "alive."

from this perspective, the world has no intention. everything is just falling, if not into my placing, then into the universe's. my job is not to judge or choose, but to accept what falls, and to deal with it as best i can. there's peace in this. but it has to be an ongoing, never ending practice.

even with writing, which sometimes feels as though it tears me apart, i believe in this, in the possibility of finding peace in all processes. it's my only salvation, i think.

i hope all people can find peace and calm in their lives; but it's my belief that they have to settle in and find it themselves. it's the easiest thing to do, an option i believe is available to anyone in any circumstance: just sink into yourself and your suffering. it can feel at times like the gateway to death (and in a way it is), but it's the only way to find life.

here i go again, getting pseudo-metaphysical... it's 3 am, the time when i float off on tangents instead of sleeping... like pandora, there are all the evils of the world to worry about, but i try to end all days (and nights) with hope.

hope, the last of all.