the child

"Who is the child? Is he real, is he a man now? Where does he live with his family? Is he old Chloe?"

My ten year old sister, Sophia, asks me these questions as i read to her the story of Ovid's transformation. Sitting on the phone, laying in bed knowing that she is hundreds of miles away in her own bed in our old house with our old mother, listening to my voice; to the story she has never heard before but heard a milllion life times ago. How can i answer her? All these questions are my own, coming to life for me through the innocent mind of my baby sister.

I tell her that the child is me, that he lives in all grown ups but we don't know it. I tell her that she is more like the child today at ten years old then i have been in over a decade. She laughs at me and reminds me that we are not boys, we are girl. I smile and tell her thank you for reminding me for i had forgotten, in my best sarcastic but loving tone.

She does not understand me and my pathetic attemps at being deep but i know in my heart that the story of the child is the story of her youth. Growing older, leaving the world of immagination and creativity behind for one that is dark and opressive i have begun to forget. Living within the bounds of society, trying to be an adult myself, i see what i have lost when i look at her. When for a brief moment i remember what it is like to see the world through her eyes. Eyes that see possiblity and dreams when she looks into the afternoon clouds compared with my eyes, that simply think of the coming rain and what it will do for my already flooded lawn.

How can i ge that back? That is my qestion; how can i have her eyes and my mind as i continue to experiecne life she has not begun to even think of.

I was reading a story the other day where the wife and husband turned out to be brother and sister because the boy's father had an affair with the girl's mother before they were born. Being happy as clams before they knew the truth then having their lives falling apart with the knowledge that they could be sick. That their children could be sick from their unlucky fate. That got me thinking about what i would do? What price would i pay for love? Would i give up the approval of society, family and friends to keep my true love with me? Would i be okay knowing that i could never have children that look like me, have my eyes, my nose and my black hair without risking their health. I don't know but i do know that i have never experienced anything as strange in my own life and through catharsis.

family

I went to a wedding shower this weekend with my boyfriend. We have only been together for a few days but we have been best friends for months. We drove an hour or so and reached his grandmother's house. Meeting his family that night and then the happy couple on Saturday was a fun and frightening experience. I have never liked a family as much since i was a kid, meeting my first boyfriend's family. His farmore is the cutest and nicest little old Swedish woman with the exception of my own Swedish great grandmother. His family welcomed me with smiles and open arms, i felt right at home. It was odd.

A few days ago i broke up with my boyfriend of over a year and this weekend i met my new family. It was great. The world is crazy and it makes me wonder if all really is suffer and fleeting? How is it that Niobe, Hecuba, Iphigenia, and Actaeon suffered till their hearts broke but mine can break and heal while i fall in love with a new someone? Life is something i will never understand but i do believe that the fates and destiny and perhaps even chance are playing with my heart.

"The world will always welcome lovers as time goes by" is a quote from one of my favorite movies, Sleepless in Seattle. I hope that this is true.

"the end is only ever the beginning"

My boyfriend and i broke up a few days ago. I decided it was time to stop waiting. I can wait no longer for the light in his eyes to return. For the laugh that makes me smile when my heart needs it most to come back. I am tired of waiting for the man i fell in love with so many years ago to come home at night and hold me like he once did when we were young.

He is a new man, my old man. And it took me a long time to figure it out but once i did my decision was easy. The hardest part was knowing that he does not care. I have not had the desire to see him but i have seen a few of our friends. I hate knowing that he does not miss me, does not want our life back.

Since my experience and journey through this class started so many months ago, i believed that i had experienced my "rock bottom" to quote the cliche. But sitting on my green king sized comforter crossed legged crying until i was barely able to think, i told him i was leaving; that my desire to fight for our relationship is gone and having him look at me with nothing in his eyes. He did not speak at all, he sat still and held me while i cried telling me its okay. That he is okay.

That's how it ended, with me crying, feeling like i couldn't breath with him walking out my front door. How much can the human heart handle? If each day we experience catharsis through television, news and literature, how much more do we subject ourselves to conciously or subconciously?

snow

snow, how i longed for your soft blanket of white. how i needed to see the moon light shine off your sparkling flakes.

snow, how i enjoyed your coating of the slopes. how i road for hours on your soft hills that caught my jagged falls and fumbles.

snow, how you made me smile when i walked home at night. how you kept me feeling safe and warm so far away from my family at Christmas.

snow, how i hate your coming. How i needed there to be green grass to lay on today. How i needed to be comforted by the warmth of the sun. feeling the soft soothing touch of the wind on my shoulders laying on the beach absorbing the light.

laying in the fields of Roskie watching the cars pass and the boys playing basketball while i dream to the sounds of michale sexton. his soothin melodies fill my heart with the sounds of life, life beating bellow me. life beating above. the sunshine flowing down upon my burnt skin helping my cells to regenerate and die faster. making me look older each moment i enjoy the sunhine.

snow, i need you to leave, to let me once again fell the sun upon my petals. i need you to let me grow older with the help of your brother Apollo the God of the sun. to long i have lived in the shadows and the bone chilling bite of your temper. What i need most today is to feel the sun.

my final paper

Chloe Bjorklund

Dr. Sexson

English 213

4/22/09

Magic and my heart

When I think of my life, my aspirations and the hopes and dreams I have for my future one thing comes to mind…magic. What is it about this mythological idea of the supernatural that captivates my heart and mind? While reading about metamorphosis: gods and goddesses changing into humans, humans changing into beasts; this idea that the immortal life is somehow intertwined with magic; I thought of what else comes to mind when thinking of this all encompassing word magic? For me there is no other first thought than the fanciful tale of Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling. But it is not only Harry Potter that comes to mind after a few extra seconds of pondering but also the new teenage craze of Twilight by Stephenie Meyer. What is it about this idea of immortality and magic that possesses the stories of the past and of the present? I believe it is a human desire within all of us to discover what is hidden and find a way to reconnect with the stories of the past gods and goddesses of Olympus which are riddled with magic and can only be believed and seen with childhood innocence.

Throughout this class I have wondered what it is that makes each o us fall in love with a tale from the past. Whether it is the moving scenes with Hecuba and the Trojan Women or watching Echo chase after Narcissus or just maybe it is the idea that Persephone is happy in the underworld with her ghostly husband Hades. Whatever story a person identifies with there is always a connection to what has past and what is to come, because in all of the tales there are elements of magic; magic coming from all different sources but coming alive through the worlds on the page none the less. Magic turns king Midas’s ears into asses ears, magic eases Niobe’s pain by turning her into stone and magic definitely helps Hades open the earth when stealing Persephone into the under world. But the question I have is why this magic is important and why do people today still want to be a part of it? Not whether or not these events took place because I know in my heart 100% that they did and continue to occur today, in the age of technology and iron.

Today there are no more stories of gods throwing thunder and goddesses turning women into spiders. No, today the stories are a little different, focusing on the power of humans rather than on the power of the gods. Harry Potter is a series of books that tell the tale of one boy, named Harry, and his journey into a magical world with his friends. When I watch the movies and read the stories it is not the riveting plot that has me coming back for more. Nor is it the exciting relationships between boy and girl, no, it is the idea behind all of it that enthralls my mind. The idea that hidden somewhere close by is a land of make believe. Where castles are something to live in, mermaids are in the back yard lake and magic wands help cast magic spells. I want to believe that my imagination’s desires truly can become my reality if I try hard enough and look deep enough. This is why the tale of Harry Potter has captured the hearts of millions of young children and old adults, because we all want to believe in the make believe.

Twilight is another phenomenon that has recently swept the nation. With records of ticket sales flying off of the charts and a dedicated fan base this vampire filled tale has stolen the hearts of young girls and adults alike. Why is it that another book about vampires, with a story line that has already been told is now making another comeback into popular culture? For some it is the handsome love interest Edward, for other it is the action pact killing of the James, the stories protagonist. However, for the majority of Americans quickly falling in love with the series by Stephenie Meyer it is the ideas behind the plot and characters that is creating such hysteria. There is a wonderful idea of magic behind the eyes of Bella, waiting to become immortal. Her story starting as any other girl’s would, ordinary. However, as the books continues so does Bella’s struggle for immortality which is her way into what has been lost; a world of magical creatures both good and evil. Once again there is the idea of magic transcending the world we all know and are familiar with and forcing us to remember the dreams of our childhood fancies that have somehow been forgetting with age. Exciting and desirable because if we believe that it is true, that someone can metamorphosis into a powerful being then we are allowing our childhood imagination to grow once again. The innocence with which children dream and see reality leaves as people grow into adulthood. As the responsibilities of life, children and families creep into our thoughts; turning laugh lines into worry lines the eyes with which we use to see a sparkly castle with pink princess begin to blur until finally only the cold reality of daylight can be seen. It is the longing for our past selves that make people continue to watch movies and read stories that are riddled with magic. This ideal that, if we believe hard enough along with a pinch of fairy dust, anything is possible. That any idea can become reality if we believe in the magic of our youth. This is why people are drawn to fanciful stories however old and familiar because they remind us of a younger time, a time when reality had a hint of sparkle.

Once upon a time there was a king with three daughters, all were lovely, but the youngest named Psyche, excelled her sisters in beauty so much that she seemed like a goddess. The fame of her beauty spread far and wide and soon many people came to worship her. Meanwhile the real goddess of love, Venus (Aphrodite) became neglected as fewer people came to her temples to make offerings and pay her homage.

Venus grew jealous of Psyche and turned to her son Cupid (Eros) for help. She told Cupid to go and shoot Psyche with an arrow as to make her fall in love with the most vile and horrible creature on the earth. Cupid took up his bow and arrow, flew earthward, had one look at Psyche and was lost. No victim of his gold arrows was more deeply in love than he.

Psyche's sisters began to arouse suspicion and fear that her husband of the dark was not some handsome god, but really the serpent monster prophesied by the oracle of Apollo. “Be careful or one night he would devour you,” they warned her “arm yourself with a sharp knife, and check out his face with a lamp when he's asleep.”

Psyche's heart began to fill with terror instead of love. That very night she did as her sisters suggested and when her husband was asleep, she took a sharp dagger to bed and lit her oil lamp. When the light came on, she realized it was not a monster but the most beautiful man she had ever seen. In fact, her husband was none other than Cupid himself in all his glory. Shocked by her finding, she trembled and a drop of hot oil from the lamp fell on Cupid's shoulder and the pain awakened him. At the sight of this mistrust, Cupid fled without a word.