Twins
My favorite (FAVORITE) passage from "The Prince of Tides," by Pat Conroy, one of my favorite books:
"I thought of a dream I used to have of Savannah and me in the womb, floating side by side in our mother's inland sea — hearts forming together, fingers moving, the patient blue coloring of four sightless eyes in the darkness, the blond hair flowing like underwater grass, the half-formed brains sensing the presence of the other, gathering comfort from that nameless communion which sprang up between us before we were born.
"In the life before life, in the breathless womb and wordless safety of bloodstreams, I dreamed that something special happened to us, that there was a moment of divine sight known only to twins, of recognition when we turned toward each other in a roll that took weeks and she said, "Hello Tom," and I, who would grow accustomed to miracles, who would always believe in magic, would cry out, "Hello Savannah," and then happily, transcendentally, we would await our birth so the lifelong dialogue could begin.
"I first knew of my sister's light in the darkness."
Oh my god, doesn't it bring tears to your eyes? Ashley and I were talking about this passage the other day. I talked about how I'd fantasized about having a twin when I was a kid (my mom's a twin and amazingly, her mom is a twin, too ... why couldn't I be a twin?) I knew two sets by the time I was five (one set of boys and one set of girls). I so envied their closeness. I was lucky to have a little sister, though, who, throughout most of our youth, was attached to my hip. :) Some of my favorite memories are growing up with her. Now she's in the Midwest and I'm in California and I miss those afternoons in my room where we'd listen to music and lay there with each other without saying a word.
But Ashley said she thinks this passage doesn't necessarily have to evoke feelings about family. That it's about closeness, period ... the kind that just unfolds without force and remains for decades and decades, floating around in the cosmos.
I know what it's like to be so close with someone you forget whose molecules are whose. They're all mixed together in a jumbled mess, and you love so much it aches and fills you up with sunshine at the same time. GOD! SAP! HAAAGHT! K, I need to start talking about snot bubbles or something.
Mostly, I just wanted to type this passage out because I love it, and nothing I could say here could even do it justice. This is for me, so I can come back and look at it and remember why we're all here in the first place.
This is a tad different than my Lance Bass post, I have to say ...
"I thought of a dream I used to have of Savannah and me in the womb, floating side by side in our mother's inland sea — hearts forming together, fingers moving, the patient blue coloring of four sightless eyes in the darkness, the blond hair flowing like underwater grass, the half-formed brains sensing the presence of the other, gathering comfort from that nameless communion which sprang up between us before we were born.
"In the life before life, in the breathless womb and wordless safety of bloodstreams, I dreamed that something special happened to us, that there was a moment of divine sight known only to twins, of recognition when we turned toward each other in a roll that took weeks and she said, "Hello Tom," and I, who would grow accustomed to miracles, who would always believe in magic, would cry out, "Hello Savannah," and then happily, transcendentally, we would await our birth so the lifelong dialogue could begin.
"I first knew of my sister's light in the darkness."
Oh my god, doesn't it bring tears to your eyes? Ashley and I were talking about this passage the other day. I talked about how I'd fantasized about having a twin when I was a kid (my mom's a twin and amazingly, her mom is a twin, too ... why couldn't I be a twin?) I knew two sets by the time I was five (one set of boys and one set of girls). I so envied their closeness. I was lucky to have a little sister, though, who, throughout most of our youth, was attached to my hip. :) Some of my favorite memories are growing up with her. Now she's in the Midwest and I'm in California and I miss those afternoons in my room where we'd listen to music and lay there with each other without saying a word.
But Ashley said she thinks this passage doesn't necessarily have to evoke feelings about family. That it's about closeness, period ... the kind that just unfolds without force and remains for decades and decades, floating around in the cosmos.
I know what it's like to be so close with someone you forget whose molecules are whose. They're all mixed together in a jumbled mess, and you love so much it aches and fills you up with sunshine at the same time. GOD! SAP! HAAAGHT! K, I need to start talking about snot bubbles or something.
Mostly, I just wanted to type this passage out because I love it, and nothing I could say here could even do it justice. This is for me, so I can come back and look at it and remember why we're all here in the first place.
This is a tad different than my Lance Bass post, I have to say ...
posted by Tro at 5:08 PM
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