Flame, Glass and Ink are Poems, essays, and reading notes by Stefania Joori Suh

Tag: writer

  • Lunchtime at Snoopy Cafe

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    A new cafe is opened in Avonlea. “Snoopy Cafe” is the name of the venue selected by Ms. Katherine Cookson, the propriteriotess of great culinary skills and business acumen originally from Dublin, Ireland. Before opening up Snoopy Cafe, Ms. Cookson used to work as a head manageress at a popular pub called, “Irish Spring” in New York City for thirty good years. With her lifetime saving and investment from stocks she has sagaciously sold when the market trend was very favorable to her, Ms. Cookson was able to start her own business in her own accord. And voila! Since the opening of the cafe two weeks ago, it has been bustling with virtually all the residents of the town as well as customers from the neighboring cities who have become her regular customers hooked on her savory food made on premises on a daily basis served at affordable prices ranging from $6.50 to $20.00 for lunch and dinner menus.

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    The cafe is needless to say what a cafe should be like in terms of the quality of food it serves to customers at prices that do not break their banks and its atmosphere; i.e., whether it has a pleasant, comfy ambience that attracts both  sensitive souls who delve into reading and writing with coffee or tea and gregarious spirits who like to confabulate with their ilks or friends on things interesting to them.  That is to say, Snoopy Cafe can become your elbow room during lunchtime out of the stuffy offices to refresh your minds or at dinnertime when you want to stop by to compose your stress-overwhelmed spirits, or to meet with your select few to get together.

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    Sally has become one of the regular customers of Snoopy Cafe since the last Monday lunchtime when she accidently found out the existence of this new cafe; actually she had heard about it through the grapevine at the office, but never bothered to try it on her own because being painfully shy and a habit of creature, she had no auspicious audacity to go there by herself and check it out. Then – maybe it’s because of the beautiful weather or her acquisition of a new ipad her aunt Mary had bought for her that emboldened her caged spirit- at one Monday lunchtime, Sally finally recognized the store sign of the cafe while waiting for a green light to cross the street. “So there is that popular cafe… Maybe I can try it today.” So the history of her elbow room has begun.

    IMG_3956Aura Magoo whose husband owns and operates a seven-eleven type of convenient store nearby stops by at the cafe with her new friend Bonnie Poodle, who is opening a new French bistro at the end of the month with the trust fund bequeathed to her by her deceased paternal grandmother in France.So Bonnie wants to share her excitement for her impending new entrepreneurship for the first time. Aura, the prettiest lady in the town, is in fact secretly jealousy of Bonnie’s financial and social independence as a single woman because she has to rely on her husband’s (named Zeus) monthly allowances to her for tending household and other expenses.  Of course, she would not manifest her true feelings on the outside because she accepts it as a fact of life which she has to bear  with smile, now that she has married with three children named “Apollo, Artemis “Mina”, and Hercules “Herk.” All this complex of emotions and feelings while having a bowl of veggie salad and listening to Bonni’s rhapsodizing about her imminent business enterprise is on the brink of manifestation on Aura’s pretty face, but she manages to quell it by forcing herself to turn to the delicacy of the salad with a cup of red tea, her favorite cup of tea.

    IMG_3957Mary is taking a repose from her popcorn operation, opting for a Lunchtime Pick-Me-Up Sundae at the prices of $3.00 as a lunch special, instead of a meal set. Mary has a sweet teeth and loves to appreciate quality sweets regardless of calories, for calculation of calories at every eating time is thought ridiculously fastidious to her. After all, every edible element has calories, and just because you live on greens or proteins, it does not guarantee you optimal health, let alone svelte body. As one of the ancient epithets inscribed on the wall of the Oracle of Delphi, “Nothing in Excess” should be Rosetta Key to healthy body, beautiful body, and sound mind. In other words, if you do everything you do in moderation, you will never be led astray.

    IMG_3958While having her afternoon pick-me-up, Mary is joined by Brenda Beaver, wife of Randy Beaver, who has just lost a job as a head mechanic at “Troika Auto Body Shop” in the city as the shop went bankrupt three months ago. Thanks to his long years with the shop over ten years, Randy has been receiving his unemployment benefits that go straight to this household which has also been supported by Brenda’s income earned from her cleaning service on request. Randy has been thinking about his and his family’s future seriously but doesn’t let it shown lest he should lose confidence and hope. But his wife Brenda knows it all and understands his pathos, so she acts like she does not know any trouble in the world to keep up with Randy’s confidence as well as hers, for they have Betty and Billy, their apples of the eyes. Since Mary knows Brenda’s present family circumstances, she treats her with a swell luch of homemade-style spaghetti, one of many Mrs. Cook’s signature dishes.

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    Snoopy Cafe  latently serves as an agit in which you can read and write however long you may like without ordering any more than what you want – say, a cup of black coffee or tea only – amid Baroque or Classical music or Pop-Classic music, such as any piano pieces of much written and played by Richard  Clayderman. Viewed in this light, Snoopy Cafe is meant to be a niche for any timid soul wandering desperately to rest the weary soul with good lite food just to refresh the soul for the other half of the day to make it a grand finale. Moreover, there are no vagrants importuning to patrons of the cafe, menacing money  with offish attitudes in uncivilized manners, for even though tramps are not to be despised, neither are their present abject conditions, such depravity does not/should not confer on them right of rudeness, incivility, and solicitation without a sense of civil obedience and societal codes of conducts that are essential to be citizens with money or not, all of which is overlooked for the sake of liberal/libertine ideology that gives no regard for societal values so crucial to the communal life. And all of the customers of the cafe want to keep their new elbow rooms untainted by such political ideology that does not care for the importance of civility in the name of equality.

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  • The Wishful Pegasus

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    If I could only know where to begin
    to turn over everything from within,
    running through this wind of vortex,
    with my hands clenched in coldness,

    If I could only find where the Fates
    live to demand my justice of the witches
    who spun the Wheel of Shattered Dreams,
    Silent Wishes, All in Epicycle, Orb in Orb, As Always,

    With a great flapping of the wings of a new spirit,
    I would fly away, far away, without limit.
    With a light pair of eyes to see the reality,
    I would fly higher, see farther for the beauty.

  • Mystic Solitude

    Once upon a time, by the sea far away from here,
In a castle made by crystal, there lived a lady
With Diamond Eyes and a Glass Heart as pure
As the chaste high Moon on a wintry night sky,
As delicate as the dewdrops on the leaves of
Flowers in the meadow where nymphs of
Dainty beauty danced with gods of winds.

The lady in the crystal castle heard the merriment
Of the nymphs and the winds in frivolous levity
That grew loud and grew louder as the winds
Blew hard and blew harder as their fiery gaiety
Reached the demise of the frivolity finally as
The great waves outside the castle were lulled away,
Becoming a sweet lullaby of tidal waves peaceful ever,
Caressing her spirit inviolate, her soul incorruptible ever.

Alone, all alone – was she lonely? Not ever! Never!
For she had two ravens named Thought and Sense
That sat on her shoulders and told her of the tales of
Day and Night, of Heroes and Gods, of Spirits and Sibyls,
And then flew away when their mistress fell into slumber
To deliver her message of her Thought and Sense Urbi et Orbi
That she spurned the frivolities of the world in the guise of
Romance, Reason, and Reality – the Virtual Vagaries as ever,
In the crystal castle enameled with her mystic solitude as ever.

  • Herculean Rhapsody

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    Thousands of years ago when gods and goddesses
    Lived among the mortal and made love to them,
    There lived a man in Greece across the oceans
    Whose muscles invincible, confidence supernatural,
    His spirit all greatness, all sincerity, all eagerness,
    Untainted by the vanity of his divine heritage of Zeus.

    A fruit of lustful possession of the mortal beauty
    Named Alcmena by Zeus, the god of gods, in slumber,
    The son of god, the infant prodigy toying with a snake,
    Grew out to be on a par with the strength and esteem of gods
    That was the sacred prerogative exclusive to the Olympian.

    But lo! It was nothing but the elitism of the gods, for he could
    Threaten the Sun to make it cool, waves when his boat’s tossed at seas,
    And his music teacher for forcing him to play the lute against his will.
    But alas, this man of incorruptible pride, of exceptional valor
    Was to be pierced by the unquenchable flame of jealousy and
    Hatred of Hera, the wife of Zeus, for his being the love child of
    Her ever amorous husband whose objects of passion knew
    No boundary between the mortal and immortal evermore,
    Which she couldn’t bear at the sight of Heracles, nevermore.

    Thus, Hera cast the spell of Madness upon the son of Zeus,
    Making him blind with terrible rage, talking sound and fury,
    And exciting him to slay his wife and their three sons with a sword
    smeared with their blood so crimson, so warm with their last breaths,
    Leaving the wretched man in a bottomless pit of guilt and shame
    In his awakening from the bewitched madness driven by the sulphurous
    Envy of the wife of god, who sired this son of god, who loved his mother.

    The great surge of remorse swept over Heracles with wells of tears,
    The sublime wish to expiate his sin suddenly urged him to go
    To the Oracle of Delphi for Apollo’s guidance for his penance,
    Where the sacred priestess in fits of divine frenzy told him to
    Eurystheus, King of Mycenae, his cousin, the inferior to his being
    To purge out his sins of Matricide, Uxoricide, Prolicide, and Filicide,
    Once for all, in the name of Apollo, god of the Sun, Truth, and Healing.

    Thus obeyed Heracles, our wretched but genuine man of courage,
    Who, at the command of Eurystheus, his loyal cousin, undertook
    The Twelve Great Labors so impossible, so unthinkable, so incredible
    By himself, alone, in act of penitence that was so brutal, so primordial as thus:

    Killing the Lion was met by vanquishing the Hydra;
    Then he had to capture the Stag and the Boar;
    He even deigned to clean the filthy Stables in a single day
    To kill the monster Bids, followed by capturing of the bull;
    Thereupon, he rounded up the Mares to steal the Girdle;
    Herded the Cattle so unmanageable and untamable;
    Went to fetch the Apples and then captured the Dog of the Underworld.

    The Greatness of the Spirit, the Purity of the Soul,
    Far excellent, far above the Reason clothed in cowardly pride,
    Far higher than arrogance and hypocrisy in the guise of intelligence,
    Was the name of Heracles to whom no fear and intimidation did appear,
    Nor the impossibility, nor injustice did exist in therein eternally evermore
    enshrined in the memory of the half-man, half-god who once lived among us.

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  • The Avonlea Story – Existential Episode on the Collies and Ms. Cubert

    IMG_3732It has been almost over five good years since the Collies have immigrated to Elysia from Scotland. By now the family has well settled into the ways of life in their adopted home country, especially their beloved town of Avonlea, which has become their hometown. After all, anywhere can be anyone’s home as long as it feels comfortable and peaceful, if not exactly welcoming. Besides, if the customs and languages are similar to those of your native country, the process of acclimation is comparatively smooth without Herculean challenges. So in this respect the Collies have lucked out thus far.

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    The Collies live in Avonlea, a suburb of Charlottetown where Paul Collie, the head of the household works as a manager of the Food Department at Diamond Trading Corporation. His resourceful wife Laura Collie works at home as a part-time seamstress, making and altering clothes, curtains, and tablecloths on order from her clients who all have heard about Laura’s finesse in sewing and knitting and crocheting from the grapevine of Avonlea and even Charlottetown.

    In fact, Laura owes her craftsmanship to her great Aunt Meena in Edinburgh, Scotland who used to own her own embroidery shop until her death six years ago. It was also this embroidery store where Paul and Laura had met together for the first time, which led them to walking down the aisle of the Church of Our Lady in Danube three years later and taking a marital vow of faithfulness, love, and understanding. There were moments when both Paul and Laura adhered to what they thought infallibly right but the sacred promise before the altar always won. Their faith always won. Moreover, Paul and Laura are always happy to work hard for their darling Lana, a dainty bright seven-year old girl who is always eager to help others in need.

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    Recently, Lana has taken up a piano lesson under the tutelage of Ms. Brenda Cubert, a spinster who is finely conversant in classic literature, impressionist paintings, baroque/classical/romantic/ancient Greek music, and European history. Ms. Cubert thinks that Lana has a musical talent because of her quick sense of rhythm, aptitude for improvising melodies without musical notes, and her unalloyed appreciation of beauty of music and the Arts in general.

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    But this is what Ms. Cubert thinks to herself; she keeps everything to herself in fear of jinx, for she believes that if she says something good about anything, about herself included, things will suddenly turn sour and belligerent against her… To dismiss it mindless superstition of a spinster is a great injustice to her fine quality as an individual of deep intellectual curiosity and as a woman of sophisticated sensibility and delicate disposition. Such brooding inclination rather arises out of her  empirically shaped mode of thinking due to her eggshell sensitivity. Notwithstanding all of this intricacies of her mind, Ms. Cubert is all intelligence, all beauty, and all kindness.

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    You can get used to just about anything.” In certain cases, the adage seems to be in effect, such as in the case of the Collies whose life as a family of immigrants is quite smooth and placid. To them moving into Elysia, in this cozy town of Avonlea is akin to moving to a commonwealth of The Great Suhsland under the reign of Queen Stephana  whose sovereignty also includes Scotland. Whether or not it is this cultural similarities or affinities that facilitates their adjustment to the new land, the Collies will always remain a strong family bound by responsibilities and duty and love and understanding as Paul and Laura promised to each other in the matrimonial ceremony before the altar. Sempre fidelis, that is.

    *Extra Feature

    This is my very first experimental video featuring the panorama of the diverse residents in the town of Avonlea. All of the cast and setting are decorated and posed by myself. For those of you who have already read one of my short episodes about these folks might be familiar with them. The purpose of this video is to convey the leitmotif of the episodes I sometime write about these little residents vividly in combination with music which I deem humorously fit the whole idea of the story itself. In future, I plan to make a series of short stop motion animated films on these figures.

  • Bluebird Interview

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    She was born when Saturn and Uranus were housed in the Aquarius. That says pretty much about her. The Aquarian are known for their independent spirits, compassionate and caring nature, and unquenchable wants of knowledge, all enveloped in mysterious estrangement even among the crowds. Yet, Stephanie, the writer and the editor of her two-year old Web log, “The Stylus,” (formally known as “Offbeat) is generally quite approachable and genial although she is never too loquacious at a first meeting. In fact, you might find her quite interesting to talk to, especially when you strike up a conversation with her about books written by classical writers or about history, dogs, or cultures. And if any of these appertains to one of her writings published on her digital log, “The Stylus,” you will see her soul being elevated to the ether with her eyes sparkling like stars on the Persian night sky. On Monday morning at a cozy cafe in Avonlea, Bluebird had the pleasure sitting down  with a cup of warm hazelnut coffee to talk with her about her blog, from the inception, the purpose, and the future thereof.

    BD: Hi, Stephanie. As Oscar Wilde has said that a woman who would reveal her age would tell anything about her, I won’t ask you how old you are because I suspect that you will not anyhow.

    Stephanie: I appreciate your judiciousness. (Smile) And yes, you are right in saying that I won’t tell you my age. (Smile) But I am neither teen-aged nor maturely aged, single, like one of those 10 vestals in the ancient Roman Empire. (Smile)

    BD: Okay, then let’s start talk about your Web log. What was the idea behind the creation of this log of yours? Did it occur to you all of sudden that you wanted to have yours like everyone else?

    Stephanie: Well, I first started thinking about having my writing log about 2 years ago. I had always wanted to write things about what I liked and to convey it in written letters because I think writing revels one’s soul in his/her genuine self without worrying about the physical appearance and how to present the self externally in public. In that regard, writing is non-discriminating of all social and biological differences. And I always thought that in people’s writings I could see the intelligence and nature of the writers because people would tell about their innermost feelings by means of writing rather than by speaking, which I think, sometimes seems a bit pompous and artful.

    BD: So, is this why you came to create your blog to write about what you think and feel that cannot be shared by speaking in public?

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    Stephanie: Partly so. And partly it’s because writing seems easier to communicate than speaking, which requires of me instantaneous faculty with dialogue that necessitates breaking from shyness. You see, English is not my mother tongue. Being a native Korean, the language differences between the two languages are as wide and deep as the Pacific Ocean: The English belongs to the Indo-European lingual family, while the Korean to the Ural-Altai to which the Japanese, the Turkish, the Finnish, and the Hungarian also belong. The syntax and the grammar are of course very different. So, it will be much different from, say, someone from any Western European country speaking and writing English because Western European languages belong to the same family as the English. Nevertheless, I want to break from such syntactical, grammatical, and literary inhibitions to craft the art of writing, just as Jack Kerouac felt the same about it.

    BD: That’s a sublime motivation to create your blog. Then how about the name of your blog? It has recently gone through some changes…

    Stephanie: Yes, indeed. But for the good reasons. First, it was started as “Offbeat” because one of the teachers at the language school I currently work at told me that my blog seemed to carry this offbeat vibes, a sort of New York feel, the independence, the avant-garde spirit that knew no boundary of subject matters of writing. So I thought it was a cool name for my blog and kept it until the last week. But suddenly I came to think that it needed name changing just for a change of scenery; you know the kind of moment when you want to reinvent your image with a new haircut.

    BD: Okay, Stephanie. By the way, what are your readers like? Do you have many followers?

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    Stephanie: To be honest with you, I am more concerned about the qualitative likes I get for what I write from fellow bloggers who also love writing and publish qualitative posts by which I mean the writings, such as musings, creative stories, poems, and/or book reviews. The reason I say this is that recently there has been someone who creates several unsolicited blogs that only contain commercial stuff, copied works of others, or nothing just to get to my blog. And I tell you that I only appreciate the likes from those qualitative bloggers. And I also tell you that I don’t appreciate those of illegitimate ones’ likes. How do I know they are illegitimate? Well, can you like my writing as soon as I publish? That means that person does not bother to read my writing, which I take it as an offense.

    BD: Who is that one plaguing your blog with empty likes? Have you done something about it?

    Stephanie: First, that one appeared in my spam comment section. He said he liked my blog and asked for some advice of writing. I think I was too naive to even reply to him, thinking that he was going to have his meaningful blog filled with writings, but no… I should have never done that…. This is my character flaw; that I bring trouble and pain on myself through pity and compassion… In that respect, I sympathize with Katherine Cookson, who said the same thing in her memoir Before I go, about which I have also written.

    BD: You must be really frustrated with that person… Sorry to hear that.

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    Stephanie: I even contacted an engineer at wordpress. about this issue in effort of stopping him from visiting my blog, but was told that because it’s in a public domain, there’s no way I could do that… And you know it’s really disheartening to see it happening in my blog because it is a sheer form of sabotage to my blog because my blog is not an object of popularity… Although my current followers are 52, what I care about is my works being duly appreciated by fellow writers, amateur or professional. Nevertheless, I don’t want to canvass for liking my writings. It’s just not me. But if you like any of my writings in terms of the contents regardless of any grammatical errors, that makes me feel fulfilled. And any comment is always welcome.

    Don’t be shy to comment on any of my posts because I am a human being, too! (Smile)

    BD: Stephanie, I understand how you care about your blog and your love of writing in this interview. Any word to your readers?

    Stephanie: I just want my readers to know that I write because I like to portray what I feel about things in my heart in poetry and what I think about books I read in my mind in belief that taste and reason is universal in all human creatures regarding principles of judgment and of sentiment common to all mankind, as Edmund Burke averred in his essay On Taste. So Many Thanks to You, Dear Readers with My Whole Heart.

    BD: Thank you, Stephanie. I hope your writings will have a wide range of loyal noble readership.

    Stephanie: Thanks! Have a lovely day!

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