Print factory, Changshu, ChinaInterestingly, I began this post, pasted over it, thought it lost, rewrote it, and then recovered the original.
I thought it might be interesting for readers to see both versions, so here they are.
Version one first.
When I speak of reverence and shame, I generally tend to think of them outwardly. I have a reverence for this person or that idea; for this piece of artwork or that institution. I have inward shame in regard to this or that outward deed I did.
I wrote the following to my dear friend and mentor Patty de Llosa earlier this week —
Sometimes I think if this capacity in us really connected with the parts it ought to educate, things inside would truly undergo a meaningful transformation.
At this age I see more and more how essentially selfish I am, and I see more and more how I don't trust the Lord, now matter how good I am at mastering the words; which is a source of great distress.
Somewhere in all of this there is the potential for remorse of conscience to arise.
and now, version two:
When I approach the ideas of reverence and shame, I generally have a reverence for outer things — institutions, ideas, artwork, or special people — perhaps, even, a spiritual work. And when I have shame, again, it's generally shame for outward things I did.