“The interior landscape of a soul is,
in part,
a reflection of the [[exterior landscape]].”
Susan Vreeland
The first thing you notice is the ''dust''.
It is yellow-orange and it gets everywhere.
It interferes with your [[sightseeing|Sightseeing]].
The road outside the hotel is a loose sea of yellow dust.
To your disappointment, so is the road outside your [[house|House]].
You notice [[a huge column of smoke]] rising into the sky.
You think of ''Sodom and Gomorrah''.
Some days there is so much ''dust'' in the house that ''Mama'' doesn't clean it.
The [[moisture]] on the floor and walls would only attract more ''dust'' that would coat the house again.
Mama works hard. She is always cleaning and cooking. Sometimes at the end of the day, her feet are swollen, and she props them on the sofa while she watches her soaps and reads her prayer books and gossips with her friends.
Mama is from [[the islands]]. She has [[peau clair]].
On Thursday there are tiny insects marching on your dresser. You call [[Mama]] to come see.
She explains that you have left something moist on your dresser, and now they are drinking the [[water]].
You kill the insects as you can, and you start storing your toothbrush on top of the TV.
At the highest point in the city, the guide apologizes for the view.
“Usually you can see straight across the peninsula,” he says, “but today there is too much ''dust'' in the air.”
A golden mist hangs over the high-rise office buildings, like the Holy Spirit descending on the apostles at Pentecost.
"Women from the islands love to work hard," says a woman at the school.
Many people from the islands are [[Catholic]].
You do not know many other things about the islands.
''Peau'' means "skin".
''clair'' means:
light
pale
fair
clear
bright
obvious
evident
"I am white, like [[you]]", says Mama's sister, introducing herself.
At the church, they speak of [[the sacrifice of Christ]] in terms of ''blood''.
Doing your laundry, you watch the water turn red
and you realize that
at some point in your life
you will have shed more ''blood'' than [[Christ]] ever had in His body.
You wonder if this matters.
In the beginning was the Word,
and the Word was God,
and the Word was with God.
He came to make us more than [[dust|Dust]] in the grave.
''Christ'' has [[peau clair]] here.
//Whosoever drinks the water I give to them shall never thirst again, but shall become a font of living water.//
You do not see how this can be the truth here. There will always be need for more ''water''.
You are only in this city for a short time.
You are only on this Earth for a short time.
You have ''peau clair''.
You have hair the color of ''dust''.
You have often said that you are [[Catholic]].
This is your faith
(as you wrote on the housing form)
(as you keep telling people)
It's true that you believe in [[Christ]], and it's true that you believe that you are [[weak|weakness]].
The first thing you notice is
[[the smoke|Ash]]
[[the dust|Dust]]
It is black and greasy and terrible.
On your [[first walk|première sortie]] you see it up close.
The particles in the smoke stick in your eyes and make them burn. Soon you are crying so hard that you cannot see.
That night, you wash the [[ashes]] from your face and watch your skin change its color in the bathroom mirror.
You feel that the smoke is implicating you for your [[weakness]].
Here is a list of some of your ''weaknesses'':
- you often belittle yourself
- you are afraid of [[blood]]
- you do not know the right way to peel onions
- the landscape here is your [[enemy]]
- you are not in love with any men
- you do not dance well
- you cannot carry a 10 liter jug of [[water]]
- you do not always understand verbal instructions
- you are not always [[ashamed]] that you are weak
You go to the church to take ''ashes''.
"You've got a smudge on your forehead," says someone at the school when you arrive.
At that moment you feel overcome
perhaps by [[Christ]]
perhaps by [[weakness]].
You do not touch the ''ash'', but when you arrive home, it is gone.
You have certainly thought of the [[dust|Dust]] as your ''enemy''.
It sticks to your skin and changes the color of your shoes.
It coats your throat and makes you cough.
But it is part of what makes the landscape here.
This is the way you think about many enemies and evils.
"Christ, let me die before I sin again," pray the [[Catholics|Catholic]] around you.
In that moment, you know how [[weak|weakness]] you truly are.
The [[interior landscape]] of a soul is,
in part,
a reflection of the [[exterior landscape]].
You wonder what is happening to your [[soul]] here.
"It is not the [[mind]]," says your professor, "but the ''soul'' that recieves this [[wisdom]]."
You have a lot of [[questions]].
Wisdom is your favorite book of the Bible.
It is about a woman who shouts from doorsteps and gives wise counsel.
She was there before the beginning of the world, ''a pure emanation of the being of God''.
She does not exist. She is a metaphor for [[something else]].
(Most women in the Bible are metaphors, according to some people.)
You are firmly against the division between ''mind,'' [[body]], and ''soul''.
Perhaps this is because you have [[something else]] where a ''soul'' should be.
Sometimes you wonder when your ''soul'' began to be replaced by a space filled with ''questions''.
Your body is full of [[weakness]].
You are in love with it.
This ''something else'' has been a part of you for a long time.
You know that it has to do with the ways that ''water'' can be stronger than ''blood''.
You think it involves the slow truths that your ''mind'' and ''soul'' pursue as one.
Maybe it has something to do with how, in your faith, which has many ''questions'' in it, there is peace.
Today, there are [[dust and ashes]] in it.
Dust and ashes are dry, but not empty.
They are full of meaning.
They act.
You wonder if [[your faith]] is drying up here.
<html><a href="http://dustandashesproject.tumblr.com">You wonder what your faith will become.</a></html>