Stars fall to earth like snow drops. Each one uniquely designed for an impact,



but only a few ever reach the surface of the swirling sea. A summer’s evening on a



rocky beach, the horizon aglow with crimson as night-time turns from twilight to



moon-light, and yet, stars still fall bright, as bright as stars can be, and the



nightingales sing sweet, and all this beauty is for free.





Los Angeles is a paradox, guised in simplicity. You must stay alert and tuned into



the beat of this city to truly feel its pulse. You must give up drugs, or never



start doing them, to fully grasp its complex, supremely accomplished



sophistication, but, as I have inferred, this is a matter of perception, and the



depths of each man's inner sight, and the quality of the dope one smokes. I love



this city. But I did not always feel this way. In days gone by, I was only able to



see the surface of my city and I unquestioningly believed in ubiquitous gross



generalities.





Then, one mid-summer’s evening, just such a one as I now describe, her face



appeared before me in a vision. She asked if I might tell her story the way it was



truly meant to be told. I replied, "It will be my honor and privilege to help other



people finally see your true beauty and the grandeur of your soul; to speak of



truths that had been stolen so long ago by men with covetous designs on your lands,



your souls, and your bounty." She didn't miss a beat as she expertly maneuvered



over this knowledge I suddenly possessed, however, I was in awe, and shock.





She simply asked me again to tell the world the truth of her story, the story of



Medusa, the Gorgon with the snaky locks. All I had to do was perch myself on clouds



of silver, and listen to the story of the Gorgon's head, however the story might



reveal it's self to me.





This ephemeral, divine apparition also said to be on the look out for a young man



wise beyond his years. He would be a messenger and hold all the keys to unlocking



the mysteries of the ancients, which I would need to possess if I wanted to know



the truth behind the truth. Medusa then presented me with a silk pair of slippers



with wings on either side. She disappeared before I could ask any questions. The



first question would have been, "What kind of shoes are these and how do I use



them?" Oh, well.





The next question would have been, "how does one perch on silver clouds?" I didn’t



even think to ask. I felt casually confident that I would effortlessly master the



art of cloud perching when I needed to employ it, naturally. Oh! And I would also



ask, "What’s a Gorgon’s head?









Wonder Book: Part One Re edit may 28 2007

05/28/2007

Posted on 05/29/2007
Copyright © 2025 Scott Utley