A painting of a
rice cake does not satisfy hunger. Nor
a painting of the mountain the desire to see from its summit. The
ocean view is a cheat, he says, you can see the telephoto effect. My
son remembers his past by way of what he ate. In the mirror I saw his
cheeks full, fists clenched. My memory of that meal does not satisfy
his hunger, or mine. We remember best what we write in our own hand.
How do blind people know where the bumps are? he asks. Words are
mountains. We hike up Diamond Head, then eat malasadas. Increasingly, spikes are put on sidewalks, so the
homeless cannot sleep there. But words will never hurt me.
--June
11, 2014
"A painting": Dogen
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