so how's that blog going?

On the commute this morning, two med school students are talking organo-phosphates. They mention their younger siblings, undergrads at new colleges, one far afield and another at Iowa State. "Iowa State!" she says. "Big school. Does she like it?" "Oh, yeah, she likes it enough."

And it occurred to me that I do this too. A friend tells me they finally got a job: "Wonderful! Do you like it?" Or moved into a new house: "How is it?" "Are you enjoying it?" "How are you doing?" "What's new with you?"

And with stock questions come stock answers. Short and nondescript. People ask how I like the Twin Cities, I say, "It's OK overall." The moment I add "You see..." or "But..." or "Actually, just the other day..." it feels somehow like I've overextended the time allotted to me in the conversation.

This brings me back to when Sis and I talked at length about storytelling when I was in Boston. Something about this culture really discourages it. It seems the moment we bring up any big, complex thing into a conversation (your sis going to Iowa State, your new digs, your general state of mind), the implicit goal is to reduce it down to a bite-size chunk. I can think of any number of critical questions to raise when I hear about someone going to Iowa State--are they finding a good community of people to plug into? Are there ways to move out of the incubatory experience of a big university? Does it seem like their education and growth is valued there? Who teaches or studies there, what are they like? Are they already disillusioned with the limits of higher education institutions? Are they learning critical thinking? But I work like anyone else does. I ask "How do they like it?" and I can leave it at that and it's just fine by me.

Storytelling rests its head on insatiability, of a very focused kind. Not grasping for every straw of information out there, but slowly pulling a mouldering rope from up the well. Your arms carry that refreshing soreness in them. Your eyes direct each tug. As long as there is rope left to pull you will pull. Storytelling is hunger, not sensory overload. Nursing patience, not demanding to know everything now, if you could only have enough headlines to skim and website tabs to pluck. The sort of thing you force yourself to learn, hunt it down if you can, something, cuz no one's coming forward to teach you, that's for damn sure.

This is just one reason sis works at a literary arts center and I just started reading Eduardo Galeano's Memory of Fire. I like it enough.

Friday heaviness for ya. Just tired and a bit more discerning. If you like lighter fare, there's always this. I told sis it'd be going on the blog. A bit outdated but still. Your head will trap the song and won't let go, for funny yo.