{"id":17391,"date":"2015-11-06T06:43:07","date_gmt":"2015-11-06T11:43:07","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/?p=17391"},"modified":"2025-01-09T19:30:36","modified_gmt":"2025-01-10T00:30:36","slug":"paying-attention-to-the-imperceptible","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/2015\/11\/paying-attention-to-the-imperceptible\/","title":{"rendered":"Paying Attention to the Imperceptible"},"content":{"rendered":"<div class=\"intrinsic-container intrinsic-container-16x9\" data-afsc-id=\"2731\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/07eWCY65Q0A?si=ewDW-zIZhGdNowJN\" title=\"YouTube video player\" frameborder=\"0\" allow=\"accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share\" referrerpolicy=\"strict-origin-when-cross-origin\" allowfullscreen><\/iframe><\/div>\n<p class=\"smalltext\" data-afsc-id=\"2735\"><em data-afsc-id=\"2736\">[Video: Loreena McKennitt performs &#8220;All Souls Night&#8221; live. (Lyrics below.)]<\/em><\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2737\">From <a title=\"whiskey river: Pascal Mercier, on the brilliance of subtlety\" href=\"http:\/\/whiskeyriver.blogspot.com\/2015\/11\/it-is-mistake-to-believe-that-crucial.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\" data-afsc-id=\"2738\"><em data-afsc-id=\"2739\">whiskey river<\/em><\/a>:<\/p>\n<blockquote data-afsc-id=\"2740\">\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2741\">It is a mistake to believe that the crucial moments of a life when its habitual direction changes forever must be loud and shrill dramatics, washed away by fierce internal surges. This is a kitschy fairy tale started by boozing journalists, flashbulb-seeking filmmakers and authors whose minds look like tabloids. In truth, the dramatics of a life-determining experience are often unbelievably soft. It has so little akin to the bang, the flash, of the volcanic eruption that, at the moment it is made, the experience is often not even noticed. When it deploys its revolutionary effect and plunges a life into a brand-new light giving it a brand-new melody, it does that silently and in this wonderful silence resides its special nobility.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2742\">(Pascal Mercier [<a title=\"Google Books: 'Night Train to Lisbon: A Novel,' by Pascal Mercier\" href=\"https:\/\/books.google.com\/books?id=FMLFDiIeYyoC&amp;pg=PA38#v=onepage&amp;q&amp;f=false\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\" data-afsc-id=\"2743\"><em data-afsc-id=\"2744\">source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2745\">&#8230;<a title=\"whiskey river: 'All Souls Night' (excerpt), by Loreena McKennitt\" href=\"http:\/\/whiskeyriver.blogspot.com\/2015\/10\/i-can-see-lights-in-distance-trembling.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\" data-afsc-id=\"2746\">and<\/a> (italicized lines):<\/p>\n<blockquote data-afsc-id=\"2747\">\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2748\"><strong data-afsc-id=\"2749\">All Souls Night<\/strong><\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2750\">Bonfires dot the rolling hills<br data-afsc-id=\"2751\" \/>Figures dance around and around<br data-afsc-id=\"2752\" \/>To drums that pulse out echoes of darkness<br data-afsc-id=\"2753\" \/>Moving to the pagan sound.<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2754\">Somewhere in a hidden memory<br data-afsc-id=\"2755\" \/>Images float before my eyes<br data-afsc-id=\"2756\" \/>Of fragrant nights of straw and of bonfires<br data-afsc-id=\"2757\" \/>And dancing till the next sunrise.<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2758\">CHORUS<em data-afsc-id=\"2759\">:<br data-afsc-id=\"2760\" \/>I can see lights in the distance<\/em><br data-afsc-id=\"2761\" \/><em data-afsc-id=\"2762\">Trembling in the dark cloak of night<\/em><br data-afsc-id=\"2763\" \/><em data-afsc-id=\"2764\">Candles and lanterns are dancing, dancing<\/em><br data-afsc-id=\"2765\" \/><em data-afsc-id=\"2766\">A waltz on All Souls Night.<\/em><\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2767\">Figures of cornstalks bend in the shadows<br data-afsc-id=\"2768\" \/>Held up tall as the flames leap high<br data-afsc-id=\"2769\" \/>The green knight holds the holly bush<br data-afsc-id=\"2770\" \/>To mark where the old year passes by.<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2771\">[CHORUS]\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2772\">Bonfires dot the rolling hillsides<br data-afsc-id=\"2773\" \/>Figures dance around and around<br data-afsc-id=\"2774\" \/>To drums that pulse out echoes of darkness<br data-afsc-id=\"2775\" \/>And moving to the pagan sound.<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2776\">Standing on the bridge that crosses<br data-afsc-id=\"2777\" \/>The river that goes out to the sea<br data-afsc-id=\"2778\" \/>The wind is full of a thousand voices<br data-afsc-id=\"2779\" \/>They pass by the bridge and me<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2780\">(Loreena McKennitt [<a title=\"Loreena McKennitt: lyrics to 'All Soul's Night'\" href=\"http:\/\/loreenamckennitt.com\/lyrics\/ALL-SOULS-NIGHT.pdf\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\" data-afsc-id=\"2781\"><em data-afsc-id=\"2782\">source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2783\">&#8230;<a title=\"whiskey river: Tan Twan Eng, 'all things fade away'\" href=\"http:\/\/whiskeyriver.blogspot.com\/2015\/11\/my-eyes-wandered-from-one-end-of.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\" data-afsc-id=\"2784\">and<\/a>:<\/p>\n<blockquote data-afsc-id=\"2785\">\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2786\">My eyes wandered from one end of the mountains to the other. &#8220;Do you think they go on forever?&#8221;<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2787\">&#8220;The mountains?&#8221; Aritomo said, as though he had been asked that question before. &#8220;They fade away. Like all things.&#8221;<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2788\">(Tan Twan Eng [<a title=\"Google Books: 'The Garden of Evening Mists: A Novel,' by Tan Twan Eng\" href=\"https:\/\/books.google.com\/books?id=42flW_uytFQC&amp;pg=PT223#v=onepage&amp;q&amp;f=false\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\" data-afsc-id=\"2789\"><em data-afsc-id=\"2790\">source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2791\"><!--more--><\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2793\">Not from <em data-afsc-id=\"2794\">whiskey river<\/em>:<\/p>\n<blockquote data-afsc-id=\"2795\">\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2796\"><strong data-afsc-id=\"2797\">What&#8217;s Found <\/strong><\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2798\">in the tangle of trees<br data-afsc-id=\"2799\" \/>in twigs<br data-afsc-id=\"2800\" \/>from branches<br data-afsc-id=\"2801\" \/>and trunks and roots<br data-afsc-id=\"2802\" \/>in the ephemeral<br data-afsc-id=\"2803\" \/>tenderness of green<br data-afsc-id=\"2804\" \/>leaves that last a season<br data-afsc-id=\"2805\" \/>in the trembling and wind<br data-afsc-id=\"2806\" \/>the blue of sky and lake<br data-afsc-id=\"2807\" \/>in clouds resounding<br data-afsc-id=\"2808\" \/>from a place of emptiness<br data-afsc-id=\"2809\" \/>a chamber that answers<br data-afsc-id=\"2810\" \/>in vibration, string and wind<br data-afsc-id=\"2811\" \/>a trembling, brimming and falling<br data-afsc-id=\"2812\" \/>in the place opposite of grief<br data-afsc-id=\"2813\" \/>the place opposite of dark<br data-afsc-id=\"2814\" \/>in the body of lost<br data-afsc-id=\"2815\" \/>in water and air<br data-afsc-id=\"2816\" \/>a star whose light<br data-afsc-id=\"2817\" \/>has ended but travels<br data-afsc-id=\"2818\" \/>toward us<br data-afsc-id=\"2819\" \/>rising and falling<br data-afsc-id=\"2820\" \/>in a cascade of notes<br data-afsc-id=\"2821\" \/>which is not endless<br data-afsc-id=\"2822\" \/>but aching and sweet<br data-afsc-id=\"2823\" \/>like iridescent feathers<br data-afsc-id=\"2824\" \/>of wings that rise and fall<br data-afsc-id=\"2825\" \/>in the circle of migration<br data-afsc-id=\"2826\" \/>in each flight<br data-afsc-id=\"2827\" \/>music that we breathe<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2828\">(Sheila Packa [<a title=\"Writer's Almanac (November 2, 2015): 'What's Found,' by Sheila Packa\" href=\"http:\/\/writersalmanac.org\/episodes\/20151102\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\" data-afsc-id=\"2829\"><em data-afsc-id=\"2830\">source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2831\">&#8230;and:<\/p>\n<blockquote data-afsc-id=\"2832\">\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2833\">Alice [&#8230;] tried another question. &#8216;What sort of people live about here?&#8221;In <em data-afsc-id=\"2834\">that<\/em> direction,&#8217; the Cat said, waving its right paw round, &#8216;lives a Hatter: and in <em data-afsc-id=\"2835\">that<\/em> direction,&#8217; waving the other paw, &#8216;lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they&#8217;re both mad.&#8217;<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2836\">&#8216;But I don&#8217;t want to go among mad people,&#8217; Alice remarked.<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2837\">&#8216;Oh, you can&#8217;t help that,&#8217; said the Cat: &#8216;we&#8217;re all mad here. I&#8217;m mad. You&#8217;re mad.&#8217;<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2838\">&#8216;How do you know I&#8217;m mad?&#8217; said Alice.<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2839\">&#8216;You must be,&#8217; said the Cat, &#8216;or you wouldn&#8217;t have come here.&#8217;<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2840\">Alice didn&#8217;t think that proved it at all; however, she went on &#8216;And how do you know that you&#8217;re mad?&#8217;<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2841\">&#8216;To begin with,&#8217; said the Cat, &#8216;a dog&#8217;s not mad. You grant that?&#8217;<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2842\">&#8216;I suppose so,&#8217; said Alice.<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2843\">&#8216;Well, then,&#8217; the Cat went on, &#8216;you see, a dog growls when it&#8217;s angry, and wags its tail when it&#8217;s pleased. Now <em data-afsc-id=\"2844\">I<\/em> growl when I&#8217;m pleased, and wag my tail when I&#8217;m angry. Therefore I&#8217;m mad.&#8217;<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2845\">&#8216;<em data-afsc-id=\"2846\">I<\/em> call it purring, not growling,&#8217; said Alice.<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2847\">&#8216;Call it what you like,&#8217; said the Cat. &#8216;Do you play croquet with the Queen to-day?&#8217;<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2848\">&#8216;I should like it very much,&#8217; said Alice, &#8216;but I haven&#8217;t been invited yet.&#8217;<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2849\">&#8216;You&#8217;ll see me there,&#8217; said the Cat, and vanished.<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2850\">Alice was not much surprised at this, she was getting so used to queer things happening. While she was looking at the place where it had been, it suddenly appeared again.<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2851\">&#8216;By-the-bye, what became of the baby?&#8217; said the Cat. &#8216;I&#8217;d nearly forgotten to ask.&#8217;<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2852\">&#8216;It turned into a pig,&#8217; Alice quietly said, just as if it had come back in a natural way.<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2853\">&#8216;I thought it would,&#8217; said the Cat, and vanished again.<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2854\">Alice waited a little, half expecting to see it again, but it did not appear, and after a minute or two she walked on in the direction in which the March Hare was said to live. &#8216;I&#8217;ve seen hatters before,&#8217; she said to herself; &#8216;the March Hare will be much the most interesting, and perhaps as this is May it won&#8217;t be raving mad&#8211;at least not so mad as it was in March.&#8217; As she said this, she looked up, and there was the Cat again, sitting on a branch of a tree.<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2855\">&#8216;Did you say pig, or fig?&#8217; said the Cat.<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2856\">&#8216;I said pig,&#8217; replied Alice; &#8216;and I wish you wouldn&#8217;t keep appearing and vanishing so suddenly: you make one quite giddy.&#8217;<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2857\">&#8216;All right,&#8217; said the Cat; and this time it vanished quite slowly, beginning with the end of the tail, and ending with the grin, which remained some time after the rest of it had gone.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2858\">(Lewis Carroll [<a title=\"Google Books: 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland,' by Lewis Carroll\" href=\"https:\/\/books.google.com\/books?id=_-DjX7W_xJoC&amp;pg=PA67#v=onepage&amp;q&amp;f=false\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\" data-afsc-id=\"2859\"><em data-afsc-id=\"2860\">source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2861\">&#8230;and:<\/p>\n<blockquote data-afsc-id=\"2862\">\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2863\"><strong data-afsc-id=\"2864\">Very Like a Whale<\/strong><br data-afsc-id=\"2865\" \/><em data-afsc-id=\"2866\">(excerpt)<\/em><\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2867\">Here&#8217;s light,<br data-afsc-id=\"2868\" \/><span style=\"margin-left: 5em;\" data-afsc-id=\"2869\">angular, ubiquitous<\/span><br data-afsc-id=\"2870\" \/><span style=\"margin-left: 10.5em;\" data-afsc-id=\"2871\">with the milky pigments of belief.<\/span><br data-afsc-id=\"2872\" \/>Here&#8217;s plodding time, breathing hard.<br data-afsc-id=\"2873\" \/><span style=\"margin-left: 10.5em;\" data-afsc-id=\"2874\">Birds fly up, perch on branches,<\/span><br data-afsc-id=\"2875\" \/><span style=\"margin-left: 5em;\" data-afsc-id=\"2876\">peck seed from the grass, (tug worms from the soil).<\/span><br data-afsc-id=\"2877\" \/>I am not what I imagined,<br data-afsc-id=\"2878\" \/><span style=\"margin-left: 10.5em;\" data-afsc-id=\"2879\">here I am the illusionist<\/span><br data-afsc-id=\"2880\" \/><span style=\"margin-left: 10.5em;\" data-afsc-id=\"2881\">and dupe of my illusions,<\/span><br data-afsc-id=\"2882\" \/><span style=\"margin-left: 5em;\" data-afsc-id=\"2883\">making the angels disappear, wishing them back again.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2884\">(Brook Emery [<a title=\"Poetry Foundation: 'Very Like a Whale,' by Brook Emory\" href=\"http:\/\/www.poetryfoundation.org\/poem\/243022\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\" data-afsc-id=\"2885\"><em data-afsc-id=\"2886\">source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2887\">___________________<\/p>\n<p data-afsc-id=\"2888\"><strong data-afsc-id=\"2889\">Note:<\/strong> Although this post is filed under &#8220;Paying Attention,&#8221; as well as several other categories, it&#8217;s really got little to do with most of the other posts here which are so categorized; they pertain to the craft of writing fiction. Although&#8230; hmm&#8230; writers <em data-afsc-id=\"2890\">do<\/em> have to pay attention to the imperceptible, right?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>[Video: Loreena McKennitt performs &#8220;All Souls Night&#8221; live. (Lyrics below.)] From whiskey river: It is a mistake to believe that the crucial moments of a life when its habitual direction changes forever must be loud and shrill dramatics, washed away by fierce internal surges. This is a kitschy fairy tale started by boozing journalists, flashbulb-seeking [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","h5ap_radio_sources":[],"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"activitypub_content_warning":"","activitypub_content_visibility":"","activitypub_max_image_attachments":3,"activitypub_interaction_policy_quote":"anyone","activitypub_status":"federate","footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[247,1028,1393,74,5,50,251,3477],"tags":[1824,2777,4164,4202,4208,4209],"class_list":{"0":"post-17391","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-ruminations","7":"category-paying-attention","8":"category-whiskey-river-runningaftermyhat","9":"category-music","10":"category-06_writing","11":"category-language-writing_cat","12":"category-poetry-writing_cat","13":"category-fantasy-06_writing","14":"tag-lewis-carroll","15":"tag-loreena-mckennitt","16":"tag-pascal-mercier","17":"tag-tan-twan-eng","18":"tag-sheila-packa","19":"tag-brook-emery","20":"entry"},"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6kZSG-4wv","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17391","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=17391"}],"version-history":[{"count":12,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17391\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":27855,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17391\/revisions\/27855"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=17391"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=17391"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=17391"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}