酷我-北美枫

[ericcoliu]

2008 Writing and Re-writing Project: Stories in between (as of 8th, Sep., No. of Stories in Prose/Verse: 7)


Late in the night we listen to our own breathing in the dark and rework our stories and we do it again the next morning and all day long, before the looking glass of ourselves, reinventing our purposes. Without storytelling it’s hard to recognize ultimate reasons why one action is more essential than another. --- William Kittredge

If you want to know me, then you must know my story, for my story defines who I am. If I want to know myself, to gain insight into my own life, then I, too, must come to know my story … it is a story I continue to revise and tell to myself (and sometimes to others) as I go on living. --- Dan McAdams


I am here
And not here

My body is here
My heart is there
My mind is somewhere else

These are stories in between
Told in and through
A foreign language

This has anguished me
Do my stories tell yours as well


I hope that we are one and more than one, and more importantly, that our stories utter one another.


What follows are my stories of old pasts and new beginnings, the stories which will, I hope, tell your stories as well and thus become our stories:
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[[ericcoliu]]

2008 Writing and Re-writing Project: Stories in between (as of 8th, Sep., No. of Stories in Prose/Verse: 7)


Late in the night we listen to our own breathing in the dark and rework our stories and we do it again the next morning and all day long, before the looking glass of ourselves, reinventing our purposes. Without storytelling it’s hard to recognize ultimate reasons why one action is more essential than another. --- William Kittredge

If you want to know me, then you must know my story, for my story defines who I am. If I want to know myself, to gain insight into my own life, then I, too, must come to know my story … it is a story I continue to revise and tell to myself (and sometimes to others) as I go on living. --- Dan McAdams


I am here
And not here

My body is here
My heart is there
My mind is somewhere else

These are stories in between
Told in and through
A foreign language

This has anguished me
Do my stories tell yours as well


I hope that we are one and more than one, and more importantly, that our stories utter one another.


What follows are my stories of old pasts and new beginnings, the stories which will, I hope, tell your stories as well and thus become our stories:
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[ericcoliu]

Story 1: Spring, Summer, Winter, and Spring …


Taipei is the capital city of Taiwan and the place where I grew up. On the eve of my immigration to Canada, I had a hard time deciding what kinds of clothes I should bring with me. Sitting idly by the edge of my bed for moments, I raised my head and looked at myself in the mirror, and suddenly I realized a long-neglected climatological fact and murmured:

"I've lived here for almost 4o years. It was not until moments ago that I discovered that winter doesn't follow summer immediately. There is an autumn in between."

After almost three hours, I finally put everything needed into my luggage, sat by my bed and waited for the arrival of the first ray of the sun.
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[[ericcoliu]]

Story 1: Spring, Summer, Winter, and Spring …


Taipei is the capital city of Taiwan and the place where I grew up. On the eve of my immigration to Canada, I had a hard time deciding what kinds of clothes I should bring with me. Sitting idly by the edge of my bed for moments, I raised my head and looked at myself in the mirror, and suddenly I realized a long-neglected climatological fact and murmured:

"I've lived here for almost 4o years. It was not until moments ago that I discovered that winter doesn't follow summer immediately. There is an autumn in between."

After almost three hours, I finally put everything needed into my luggage, sat by my bed and waited for the arrival of the first ray of the sun.
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[ericcoliu]

Story 2: My Mother's Dream

(The following piece was accepted and will be published in the No. 63, 2008 issue of CANADIAN STORIES, a literary magazine featuring family stories, personal experiences and memories of the past)

I remember the night before I immigrated to Canada. My mother was helping me to pack my luggage, and she began to tell me about the dream she had had the night before.

In her dream, she stood holding me in her arms firmly and helplessly, unable to see anything ahead of her, for she was enveloped by darkness. I, on the other hand, was resting in her arms, completely unaware of her situation. She felt alone and her face was sweating. With the passage of time, she found my body becoming heavier and heavier, and she began to panic, not knowing how long she could stand firmly and hold me tightly. At this terrible moment in her life, the only thing occupying her mind was how catastrophic it would be if she fainted and let go of me. A pain rose gradually from her feet and finally up to her shoulders and arms. She gritted her teeth and endured her pain, praying to her Goddess for help.

At the moment when my mother reached the point of almost total despair, suddenly, a spot of bright, clean space appeared by her side. The space was completely flat and big enough to accommodate me. Full of gratitude to her Goddess, she used her last ounce of strength to put me down gently while I remained sound asleep. As soon as I was laid on the ground, the earth unexpectedly began to tilt. My place of rest was now a slope. I started to slide down very quickly. While careening down, I suddenly grew up, and within few minutes was no larger than a speck of dust. My mother cried out in unspeakable desperation.

Still helping me to pack, my mother looked gently at me for a moment with tears welling up in the edges of her eyes, and said, "Take good care of you while you are away from home."
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[[ericcoliu]]

Story 2: My Mother's Dream

(The following piece was accepted and will be published in the No. 63, 2008 issue of CANADIAN STORIES, a literary magazine featuring family stories, personal experiences and memories of the past)

I remember the night before I immigrated to Canada. My mother was helping me to pack my luggage, and she began to tell me about the dream she had had the night before.

In her dream, she stood holding me in her arms firmly and helplessly, unable to see anything ahead of her, for she was enveloped by darkness. I, on the other hand, was resting in her arms, completely unaware of her situation. She felt alone and her face was sweating. With the passage of time, she found my body becoming heavier and heavier, and she began to panic, not knowing how long she could stand firmly and hold me tightly. At this terrible moment in her life, the only thing occupying her mind was how catastrophic it would be if she fainted and let go of me. A pain rose gradually from her feet and finally up to her shoulders and arms. She gritted her teeth and endured her pain, praying to her Goddess for help.

At the moment when my mother reached the point of almost total despair, suddenly, a spot of bright, clean space appeared by her side. The space was completely flat and big enough to accommodate me. Full of gratitude to her Goddess, she used her last ounce of strength to put me down gently while I remained sound asleep. As soon as I was laid on the ground, the earth unexpectedly began to tilt. My place of rest was now a slope. I started to slide down very quickly. While careening down, I suddenly grew up, and within few minutes was no larger than a speck of dust. My mother cried out in unspeakable desperation.

Still helping me to pack, my mother looked gently at me for a moment with tears welling up in the edges of her eyes, and said, "Take good care of you while you are away from home."
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[ericcoliu]

Story 3: Departure

In the airport lounge, gazing at the Chinese paintings and works of calligraphy which are intended for tourist consumption, I felt already the disconnection of a stranger.

I would never see Taipei again except through the eyes of a tourist.




To be continued ...
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[[ericcoliu]]

Story 3: Departure

In the airport lounge, gazing at the Chinese paintings and works of calligraphy which are intended for tourist consumption, I felt already the disconnection of a stranger.

I would never see Taipei again except through the eyes of a tourist.




To be continued ...
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[christine]

[[christine]]

[ericcoliu]

[[ericcoliu]]

[Lake]

[[Lake]]

[Lake]

[[Lake]]

[ericcoliu]

Hi! Lake:

Thank you for your attentive reading and sharing your thoughts.

[[ericcoliu]]

Hi! Lake:

Thank you for your attentive reading and sharing your thoughts.

[Lake]

[[Lake]]

[Lake]

[[Lake]]

[dundas]

[[dundas]]

[ericcoliu]

[[ericcoliu]]

[ericcoliu]

Story 4: A Copy of A Newcomer’s Introduction to Canada

Welcome to Canada.
Name: Chen-ou Liu (phonic);
Country of Birth: R.O.C.;
(Cross out R.O.C. and fill in Taiwan)
Place of Birth; Date of Birth; S e x;
Simply more technocratic questions
The Immigration Officer needs to pin down my borders;
He is always looking for shortcuts,
More interested in the roadside signposts
Than in the landscapes that have made me;
The line he wants me confined to
Is an analytically recognizable category:
Landed Immigrant. My history is meticulously stamped.
Now, you're legally a landed immigrant.
Take a copy of A Newcomer’s Introduction to Canada.



Note:

A Newcomer’s Introduction to Canada is written and issued by Citizenship and Immigration Canada to give new immigrants helpful information for planning ahead, but it is not a detailed guide. For more information, they will be given another book called Welcome to Canada: What You Should Know. It contains specific information on all the practical aspects of living in Canada.
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[[ericcoliu]]

Story 4: A Copy of A Newcomer’s Introduction to Canada

Welcome to Canada.
Name: Chen-ou Liu (phonic);
Country of Birth: R.O.C.;
(Cross out R.O.C. and fill in Taiwan)
Place of Birth; Date of Birth; S e x;
Simply more technocratic questions
The Immigration Officer needs to pin down my borders;
He is always looking for shortcuts,
More interested in the roadside signposts
Than in the landscapes that have made me;
The line he wants me confined to
Is an analytically recognizable category:
Landed Immigrant. My history is meticulously stamped.
Now, you're legally a landed immigrant.
Take a copy of A Newcomer’s Introduction to Canada.



Note:

A Newcomer’s Introduction to Canada is written and issued by Citizenship and Immigration Canada to give new immigrants helpful information for planning ahead, but it is not a detailed guide. For more information, they will be given another book called Welcome to Canada: What You Should Know. It contains specific information on all the practical aspects of living in Canada.
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[ericcoliu]

Story 5: Where Is My Home?

Where is my home?

It is Taipei, Republic of China, aka Taiwan, where I was born and raised and complained about or County of Mount Dragon, Hunan, People’s Republic of China, where my father came from and I never set foot, or Beijing, People’s Republic of China, where I had been indoctrinated about the center of my fatherland, or Ajax, Ontario, Canada, where I now live and have a piece of property, or Toronto, Canada, where I meet and exchange ideas with people across the globe.

Where then is my Home?
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[[ericcoliu]]

Story 5: Where Is My Home?

Where is my home?

It is Taipei, Republic of China, aka Taiwan, where I was born and raised and complained about or County of Mount Dragon, Hunan, People’s Republic of China, where my father came from and I never set foot, or Beijing, People’s Republic of China, where I had been indoctrinated about the center of my fatherland, or Ajax, Ontario, Canada, where I now live and have a piece of property, or Toronto, Canada, where I meet and exchange ideas with people across the globe.

Where then is my Home?
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul