legende fortelling...and she cried, historical roles

…and she cried…historical roles past and present.

(The Little One and The Ghost-like Fairy Tale Mistress of All Faiths and Care, see next page).

She had been working with them, these large young men inside of school systems hell bent on leather to teach them how to write without their songs and she stood here now and looked upon a brother he was large and barrel-chested and not talkative at all, his words were somehow lacking, that is what the school system says about them all, these young men that is what the statistics say about them, that youngsters of the male gender are less verbal than the females, and yet, the young teacher broke down and cried bitter tears upon seeing this barrel-chested young man begin to cry his own tears, bitter tears, in huge long sobs for having bled from his heart and soul like Cain and Abel once must have where one "killed" the other, his very own brother, yet here he was this young and so able man acting almost like a mentally handicapped finding his words not at all for all the tears, that river that was emerging from his soul as blood was pouring from his sores he had been beaten severely by his brother and was acting almost like a one without his own thoughts he could not find them nor his words in this flood of deep river tears....

She cried bitterly almost when she saw him there, her beloved brother, her so dear human being, us all, she cried as her teacher colleague took her hand, his name was Tore, a one with whom she had worked well once upon a time, that is, she had worked among mostly male teachers, she was a lone swallow singing a tone of beauty and care, they misunderstood her often, these male colleagues, the way she spoke up for the youngsters and pointed out the very good things and she did care, however, perhaps and not quite did she realize then, as life had brought her more of the saddest experiences to her in loosing such a beloved friend as she had realized that he had perpetuated what one today calls crimes of wars and yet labels are no longer adequate to talk about who started and who did what to whom as hurt and revenge is rampant among men on this planet and the real basis for it all is a thought so meaningless as they come, a thought that they are separate from God up above, and so hurt is inflicted upon each other in cries for help and revenge, that is what this writer is realizing, were we but to know the hurt behind the silent facades, the sorrow so big as man-o-war-with long burning tentacles, we would not judge but grieve with them as she knew that Tore, her old colleague was truly a sweet man, a teacher who cared, a teacher who saw these young men for what they were, and he held her hand as she cried her tears upon seeing and realizing that each and every one of them, these men no matter where as buddhistic ones, christed ones use whichever word you like, they are hurt and grieving ones in our thought separated state of mind, in our silly class differentiated mores of complexities and fears, were they but to remember who they were and are, were humanity to remember who we truly are, and for sure humanity will, each and every one who finally will be able to release their tears and return to their normal state of mind, that will be swell....it will happen one of these nights and days, meanwhile the young teacher cries her tears as she is standing there beside her so good and kind male colleague and brother, Tore as he is looking upon it all, taking her hand gently leading her through another door now, his lashes are thick above his eyes, they are more like paint brushes now, and he will teach her more, as he himself had painted his way out of his old wounded heart and sores.

But before she leaves through this door of painting mores and less of all that is gone before, she stands by the cashier for another young mentally handicapped one, a fun and gentle one, there are some beautiful cakes here and the latter wants one, she has 5 Norwegian crowns in her hand, in one single large silvery coin, the cake costs 19 something, much more than the young mentally handicapped lady has, but the young teacher by the cashier has a soft heart and is so non-attached to the material world, profit for her is not about money at all, more like a gentle heart for those who are temporarily poor souls, and that temporary state of mind can feel long within the "frames of time", it may even feel like eternity it may even feel like it is permanently, but that is not so, dear reader of mine, knowing I love them so, and have worked within a school system where I saw their innate colourful souls yet pushing these students not, and gradually even for them they began to open up and long for a home, bringing issues forth in the drama lessons that were the same themes as those that are written about in dreams and in literature noble, however their words were lacking to express themselves, at least in the beginning, with their strangely twisted bodies perhaps expressing long lasting traumatic issues, and gently we began loosening up with drama and fun.....and yet, here she cries, the young teacher upon seeing her seemingly mentally retarded brother, brother in terms of any which human being who is lacking his words and concealing his feelings, before she is about to enter into another mode of teaching but not before she has painted silently for a long time because of her own grieving...

and here she stands now and looks towards these two fine cakes, and her young "mentally retarded" female this time around protege, same story for her as the one above, something pretty awful and saddened has happened to her in a previous life or five or something like that, here she is opening up her palm showing the young teacher her coin of 5 and she wants to buy the case of cake costing 19, almost as if she herself is at a human stage of 5 years old wanting the cake she could have at more mature 19, however, this is a bakery shop, a part thereof, and so the young teacher opens up her kindest of hearts and gives her the cake for the coin of 5, a piece of that cake, perhaps the mentally handicapped lady had experienced a french revolution anywhere, perhaps she had had her head chopped off at one point inside of human history's evolution, no wonder perhaps she dared not speak her own mind and instead reached out her hand, a coin with the head of state on it, a chain of "honours" imprinted upon it, the way coins usually are, no wonder she wanted a piece of the cake, perhaps she was the one who had once upon a time in a French revolution said "let them eat cake", and here she was now, perhaps, more like a mentally retarded, fear-filled yet smiling and laughing, and wanted a piece of a cake more like that of a young and beautiful wife's, at 19 or thereabouts, however, these thoughts do come to mind as this writer sees the young and so tenderhearted teacher take this case and give it to the young mentally retarded, knowing full well that deep inside also her there resides a beautiful noble soul like in her human brother talked of above, behind all our roles, our historical roles we find the most beautiful of minds, and instead of heads to roll mentalities may resolve as souls are crying.....
...as the world goes on...

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29.10 | 15:01

Tusen takk :)

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12.07 | 12:58

Hei Liv! Veldig fin maleri...

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28.08 | 22:36

Mange takk for den fantastiske bilder og utdrag av klassisk musikk...:)

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23.07 | 14:03

Kjære Patricia - etter 5 år med acem-meditasjon, møttes du og jeg "tilfeldig" på Blindern, og du nevnte dine kreative kunster. Det var meninga!! :)<3

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