As the afternoon shadows grow longer, snow starts to fall. Bai Kunabei lifts her heavy bag of disks, holding it closed, and walks toward the schoolhouse. One of the villagers picks up the bowl of midwinter blessings and follows; another lifts the blanket, shaking the dust and twigs out of it.
She sees you standing there, and waves you to follow her. "The midwinter sun is pleasant, but it is not needed for my work. And it will be more comfortable inside."
Once inside, the desks are pushed to the sides of the room, some piled on top of each other, and the blanket is spread again. She sits down nimbly, and offers you the bowl of paper-wrapped blessings.
You reach your fingers into the bowl, touching, reaching, finally pulling one from the bottom of the bowl. It feels round and heavy. Opening it, you find a tiny metal disk, a bright enameled flower on one side. "A divination disk, albeit a symbolic one only. Perhaps you are a shaman too?"
When you don't answer immediately, she folds your hand around the disk, then reaches into her bag. The image is a person, holding a poetry scroll and flowers in his hands.
"First, The Suitor, the distant aspect of people. This is the natural aspect of your question. You are a writer in your world, if I understand your question properly. You will always be the suitor, always reaching out to distant people, your words your offering."
She reaches in to the bag again, "And the technological, representing the skills that you need--" she pulls out a disk with a knife depicted on it. "Yes--the embodiment of human will and choice. You are at a point where you can make choices that will affect your writing career for a very long time. And the abstract--" she pulls out another disk. "The scream, intensity, good or bad. Pain, fear, love, orgasm--that intensity is what will draw people to your work. Embrace it, in all of it's various aspects.
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Date: 2011-01-02 03:44 am (UTC)________________________
As the afternoon shadows grow longer, snow starts to fall. Bai Kunabei lifts her heavy bag of disks, holding it closed, and walks toward the schoolhouse. One of the villagers picks up the bowl of midwinter blessings and follows; another lifts the blanket, shaking the dust and twigs out of it.
She sees you standing there, and waves you to follow her. "The midwinter sun is pleasant, but it is not needed for my work. And it will be more comfortable inside."
Once inside, the desks are pushed to the sides of the room, some piled on top of each other, and the blanket is spread again. She sits down nimbly, and offers you the bowl of paper-wrapped blessings.
You reach your fingers into the bowl, touching, reaching, finally pulling one from the bottom of the bowl. It feels round and heavy. Opening it, you find a tiny metal disk, a bright enameled flower on one side. "A divination disk, albeit a symbolic one only. Perhaps you are a shaman too?"
When you don't answer immediately, she folds your hand around the disk, then reaches into her bag. The image is a person, holding a poetry scroll and flowers in his hands.
"First, The Suitor, the distant aspect of people. This is the natural aspect of your question. You are a writer in your world, if I understand your question properly. You will always be the suitor, always reaching out to distant people, your words your offering."
She reaches in to the bag again, "And the technological, representing the skills that you need--" she pulls out a disk with a knife depicted on it. "Yes--the embodiment of human will and choice. You are at a point where you can make choices that will affect your writing career for a very long time. And the abstract--" she pulls out another disk. "The scream, intensity, good or bad. Pain, fear, love, orgasm--that intensity is what will draw people to your work. Embrace it, in all of it's various aspects.