Modern representations, Laos 2010: Deconstructualism II)

I don’t know why, but I always find striking examples of modern art in Savannakhet. Of course, every place is special, but I especially like Savannakhet. She hasn’t sold her soul to tourism and without any pretty attractions like waterfalls, caves or ancient temples, she has to be sincere to be liked. I think people are nice.

I was reading about the Edinburgh Festival. Maybe creativity is at its best when it is uninvited. The fringe can only happen when the center doesn’t rule all. In Luang Prabang, tourism reigns and any fringe effect would only look staged. Vientiane prides itself on being the capital and I could imagine anything fringy being dismissed as weird. Laos needs a creative center. There’s no sign of it in Savannakhet, but I wonder why I’m so sure it can happen here.

There’s a crumbly French colonial section with lots of empty buildings. There are a couple 60s modernism buildings, one a movie theatre and another unknown in original intent, but spectacular. There are some holes where buildings have been torn down, but for the moment, two spotlights on the chipped wall, a cello or a khaen and you’ve got an outdoor concert. Traffic is not yet the primary soundscape in Savannakhet.

This section of town is only quiet and theatrical because it is neglected. I don’t know how long it will last. If the city gave free residence to 50 artists, Laos would have its creative heart to beat. Imagine performance art on a grand scale. Imagine a city where everyone used sign language. I get startled sometimes when I see people unconsciously using recognizable signs as they speak and gesture. The beggar woman was signing “eat”. When I approached the check-in counter at the airport, the woman signed, “Good day”. How could this be? She said I had taught her the day before in a classroom visit.

When we talk about learning, it is startling when something is observed, shared, remembered and recreated. This is what language learning is really supposed to be about. I’ll be back in Savannakhet to try to make this happen.

Reading out loud (with your hands)

The deaf school in Savannakhet is the only school I’ve had the chance to distribute the signing books directly to each student. I was looking forward to this treat. My bicycle bags were packed and I dropped in unannounced.

The director made sure all 24 students had gathered and instructed them to take care of the books. “Don’t rip the pages. Use it so you can learn to sign well.” In this interaction, I could learn a new sign for “Take care of” It was fun to hand the books out one-by-one.

I gave books for them to take home to their parents too. I figured that everyone would already know all 600 signs in the book, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Without any instruction, students moved into little study groups to look through the book. Through the years of teaching, I’ve spent a lot of energy trying to get hearing students to sit down and use a book. There’s so much chatter. There are mobile phones and endless exchanges. I’ve seen carefully cultivated concentration shattered to bits at the smallest distraction.

I sat with a small group of older boys to sign as I still need as much practice as I can get. I didn’t know the sign for “foreigner” so I made it up by signing “country” + “outside” and the boy gave me an astonished look, “What ARE you saying?” The director is a pleasant, competent and helpful woman and she showed me the proper sign which is “different” + “country”. I’m sure that the boy was saying, “You’re signing is really hopeless” and then repaired his slip of hands with a not completely insincere comment of, “You’re doing OK.” For me, comprehension through signing is like a holographic flash of understanding. I catch myself and think, “Did I really understand that?” It’s so clear, it’s beyond doubt. There’s a particular certainty when we use our right brain.

The girl-group was sitting quietly (well, of course) under a tree and all were intently going through the book. In the way that speaking people would read out loud, they were going through each sign with their hands in motion. It was an very beautiful moment. When I was leaving, the director wanted to tell me. “You know, all the other students are in their rooms reading the book.”

When I bicycle by the deaf school, kids recognize me and wave. I wave back and try not to sign and drive. I don’t dare use two hands to say something.

Happy New Year Lucky 2010

I have to admit that I read the newspaper horoscope sometimes. It usually says something, like, “Now’s the chance. Strike while the iron is hot. Be confident with your mission.” I easily imagine that it is speaking directly to me as an Aries. “Yes, that is me.”

The other day, I read the horoscope for all the other signs and realized that they were all pretty much the same. See how easy it is to create the illusion of a personal oracle? There’s nothing really tricky about this magic. We believe what we want to hear and I’ve been waiting for good news.

It’s the divining rod that waits for water. I’d gotten depressed thinking about the impossibility of selling books in Laos. Then, a friend was honest with me. “It’s only been a year. What do you expect?”

My year’s horoscope says that things well get increasingly better after a few months of a slow start. Be patient. Ease off on the pressure. Yes, I figure I can do that, but now just in mid-January, the divining rod begins to move like a big body of water is flowing underfoot.

2010 is make or break.

Three cups of ….?

“The book remained a number one New York Times bestseller for three years after its release. The book is also a popular university freshman or campus read on about three dozen campuses, and has been chosen for One City One Book community reads in over 300 cities, and published in over 39 countries internationally, and used on over 100 University and college campuses as a Freshman Experience, Honor's program or campus-wide read book” ("Three Cups of Tea" From Wiki)

It mystifies me why this book is so popular. To me it’s unnerving, not inspirational. Not the story itself, but the phenomenon that’s been created. What popular nerve does it touch? To me it’s a fantasy of Disney dimensions. I know. With all the altitude sickness and such, you may think it’s a story of incredible hardships to fund and build schools in Pakistan, but I can’t help think he had it easy. People cooperated? People didn’t steal every nail? He found qualified teachers and “culturally appropriate books?” ! ! ! ?

Not by any means to undervalue what he has done, but about the overvaluation of the marketing world of this book …

From a book review: “It’s proof that one ordinary person, with the right combination of character and determination, really can change the world."
(ahem, ahem, he did get a million dollars to help )

The Economist, December 19th 2009 – January 1st 2010

Trap or Treat
"Into a crowded field of books about the problems with development aid comes, ‘The Aid Trap’ By Glenn Hubbard and William Duggan. Columbia University Press.

The two academics are disappointed by the failure of the existing system of aid to foster economic development in poor countries. But rather than advocating getting rid of the system altogether, they propose reorienting it to concentrate on promoting private businesses in countries. This, they argue, has been the key to economic development in countries that have grown fast, but it is only rarely the principal focus of development aid.

This is all sensible stuff. But as the authors well recognize, the political economy of a well-entrenched aid business will not welcome the sort of shake-up they have in mind.

It should interest those who are convinced by the conclusions of the critics of aid, but remain disappointed by the poverty of their prescriptions."
Excerpts from Pg. 146

Lao Sign Language

Why a book on Lao Sign Language?
Laos is not a rich country. There is a severe lack of learning resources. Getting an education is especially difficult for the deaf as they are unable to effectively express their needs and be understood.

Though there are more than 22,000 deaf in the Lao PDR according to a 2005 report (1), only three small schools are operating, serving less than 150 students total. There are no programs for early intervention and language development. Because of the lack of resources, most students are unable to read and write well enough to find good jobs and either go back to their villages or make money through heavy labor.

The majority of rural children is isolated and never develops a communal language. Even in semi-urban areas, communication is limited to small pockets of signers. Without stronger social support, access to the Internet and video capable mobile phones, Lao Sign Language cannot develop quickly.

I am hoping that “Thumbs Up” will help. Many students object to using Thai books and there has been no reference book in their hands until now. “Thumbs Up” appears to delight students since most could not imagine that such a book could exist.

What kind of education is available in Laos for the deaf?
In the capital city of Vientiane, there is one publicly run school. Hearing teachers at the school have been trained in Thailand. It is run by the Ministry of Health rather than the Ministry of Education and I have observed a disappointing lack of enthusiasm and resourcefulness among the teachers.

I have never seen a book or even a notebook in the school and there is little communicative interaction initiated by the teachers. I saw one teacher berate a student and tell him he was stupid. On another occasion, a teacher said outright that the students are unable to learn. I am convinced that this is not true.

For several weeks, I experimented with Xeroxed worksheets for simple English lessons. Many are interested in learning English. I included pictures, signs and exercises in writing and thinking. Older students would assess the level of the worksheets and distribute them to the younger children. Most students completed the worksheet. They would come individually to have me check them and show satisfaction when they could understand something new. I have never experienced this in hearing schools.

There are two other small schools, one in Luang Prabang and the other in Savannakhet. They will be financed by the Vatican through the Nuncio in Bangok for the first few years (2). Here, I see more nurturing and care from the teachers and classes that are run well. On a recent visit, I could see that all the students had copies of “Thumbs Up” and had lovingly covered them in recycled paper for protection. One teacher is adamant in defending the students’ ability to learn saying that they are inquisitive and don’t hesitate to ask questions. Their persistence is not dismissed. The teachers are able to articulate what they need in the way of learning resources and @My Library, a community library run by Carol Kresge, has responded by providing Lao children’s books, tools for drawing and painting and even a deaf-friendly bingo game.

What comes next?
3,000 copies of “Thumbs Up” were printed. 400 copies have been distributed to all the schools. I will try to sell the rest to get a return on my investment so that I can start new projects. The books are not just for the deaf, but for hearing students and teachers of English as well. I have found that using gestures and sign language is effective when teaching English to Lao students, especially with oversized classes of mixed levels and students with minimal experience in reading and writing. Most Lao students respond extremely well to kinesthetic learning and their concentration and retention is noticeably improved. I will focus my efforts on teacher training to promote the use of Lao Sign Language as a method (Action English) for teaching English. Response so far has been very encouraging.

For the future, digitally animated signing will be the best way to develop a more comprehensive dictionary. Digital data can be used to produce hardcopy books, videos and most appropriately for Laos, transmitted through mobile phones.

Closing notes
Finally, someone has written a book about the problems of development aid in Laos (3). One 2006 report claims that foreign loans and aid equal to about 80 per cent of the state budget (4). This money is not necessarily translated into human development. In my personal observation, dependence on foreign aid stunts initiative and resourcefulness. In the worst of cases, projects are stonewalled until money is paid into certain pockets.

1. Clark, R. Service for deaf children in Cambodia and Laos. 2005
www. Idcs.info

2. http://www.fides.org/aree/news/newsdet.php?idnews=24123&lan=eng

3. Probe International
http://www.probeinternational.org/export-credit/lao-banks-aid-donors-losing-patience

4. Phraxayavong, V. History of Aid to Laos: Motivations and Impacts, Mekong Press 2009

Momosound

It’s not all just about books. The education of a country is not just to pump up the GNP. It’s also about preserving what one has.

Luang Prabang should be like Ubud in Bali. There should be art and music spilling over everything. Unfortunately, most of the artists and musicians left in 1975.

There are musical groups that play for tourists, but their sound has never pulled on my ear, but the other day, I heard something good and it pulled me off the street.

I found a small troupe practicing. They’re still students, but they appear to practice every moment they’ve got. They’re young, but they’ve already learned a large part of the Luang Prabang court music repertoire.

I took them to the radio station and we spent the day recording. We did three hours in the morning, but they didn’t like the sound of one instrument. We recorded again in the afternoon.

These are young artists and their attention to quality gave me goosebumps. They had their ear up to the speakers listening for things I couldn’t hear. They rescued the drum because the sound was drying up in the air-conditioning. They looked at the sine curves on the computer screen and could point out what to take out.

I’ve been preaching quality for all these years. “No, you don’t have to accept this standard. There is something more.” Today, I just sat tight with my hands around my knees and kept my mouth shut.

Business English for the universe / Thumbs up

Now, let’s really get down to business. Why stop with the continent? Someone today expressed her frustration with the limits of education saying that the lack of English proficiency cuts people off from accessing international knowledge.

For the book, I’ve interviewed managers in Luang Prabang and asked them three things they need from staff. Sometimes I had to make them stop after number three. Managers moan about the lack of strong human resources.

Actually, nobody even mentioned English. According to one manager,“English and business experience can be picked up, but without a sense of honesty, there’s no go.”

Other popular responses include integrity, motivation, self-direction, initiative, will to communicate and creativity. “Creativity is the international language” is what one manager said.

Thumbs up
This has got to be the most outrageously ambitious project I’ve tackled. I kind of fell into it. Lao sign language is very new and hardly standardized. That means a book is really necessary. It also means there’s almost nothing to work with.

I’ve chased for answers about the proper use of the Lao language like a wild chicken/duck/goose, but imagine trying to get consensus on a hand movement.

The biggest disputes, curiously, were the signs for “Vientiane” and “Lactasoy” (a popular grand of packaged soy milk) This is not because these words are obscure. I’m sure people are saying, “I live in Vientiane” or “Buy me some Lactasoy”. They probably say this more often than, “I want a durian” though signs for fruits and vegetables are the first to fill up such dictionaries,

I gave up on some words like, “confused” and “teapot”. Maybe confused is just a fancy word for “I don’t understand” and is not necessary. I could never be sure if people were signing “teapot” or “tea” or “pour” or “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” so I gave up. Who needs to sign a teapot anyway?

Hey, if anyone out there wants to rescue me from pain and help the entire Lao population of deaf people, please donate $3,000 US to buy the Avatar software. This is a computer program to animate sign language. It would be a breeze to do around 50 signs a day, soon making a substantial dictionary in a month. This is in contrast to the 600 signs I finally collected with a digital camera. It topped off my laptop’s memory and my patience and took around a year.

FabuLao

Yes, another unpatented book title. We’ve printed 5,000 each of part I & Part II and I’m depending on these books to sell. They’re aimed to take the place of the ever popular “Headway” and “Interchange” books so I’ve added to the heading, “Interway your learning, Headchange your life.”

It’s a four-skills book appropriate for the classroom with a story line tying the two books together. An alien visits Luang Prabang. A Lao girl teaches the alien about Lao life. She’s rewarded with a trip to his planet, but finds it too technologically advanced. She does become more diligent and wins a scholarship to Japan, giving her the chance to learn and find ways to help her country. Don’t know yet if she’s a good girl in part III.

Writing I & II (III pending)

English speaking guides in Luang Prabang make the best money, but their attitude is dismissive when they say, “I can speak, but I can’t write.”

Maybe the same goes for the Lao language and that’s why there’s virtually nothing to read. Literacy is not just about reading, it’s about writing too.

The 6,00 books that I’ve printed is the biggest gamble. The popularity of grammar may end up being a placebo, but writing is the bitter pill. I tell students they’ll make history if they learn how to write and we’re not just talking about how to cross a “t”.

GrammaWow I & II

People will ask why the “r” is missing in “GrammaWow”. I try to explain that the name of a grammar book has to sound glamorous and wonderful.

Today, someone asked what “wow” means. Hard to explain, but once anyone tries saying it, they will know. “WOW!” they say automatically.

Many people believe that studying grammar will make them fluent, but if they follow the rules, they’ll never be able to say, “Hey, long time, no see.”

The trick is to convince students that the past perfect is not used just to show off one’s knowledge of fancy grammar. We have the past perfect so we can show how deep our regret is: “I wish I hadn’t gone out with him. I wish I hadn’t drunk so much that night. I wish I had followed your advice.”

There are those days

There are those days, when it just rains too hard and that slippery slope I’m trying to climb turns to mud. My heart sinks as I feel my feet slide.

Those are the days when everything becomes preposterous. How could one possibly sell books in Laos? It’s not just that most people don’t read, most have no business experience either, so how can this whole operation work?

Business is a complex social exchange right up there with language. It only makes sense when two parties are satisfied with an exchange. If the balance isn’t right, it’s called theft. Just as the financial books must be tended meticulously, a social balance is equally important. “I’ve done this for you. You’ve done this for me. I’m aware that I owe you. I’m aware that you’re aware that I owe you. I’m aware that you’re not aware that I feel you owe me.” It goes on and on. That’s why we use money and make contracts.

One common social agreement is that until you compensate me, what I consider is mine is mine and not yours. That’s where book selling in Laos gets tricky. I leave them on consignment with people. My assumption is that people understand it is not their property until they pay for it. That’s why it astounds me to find books crammed in a case, covered with dust and half eaten by termites. “I didn’t have time,” is a common response.

Money is a complex concept. It may be it in your hand, but that doesn’t mean it’s yours. Not all people think that way and that’s why it’s used sometimes to buy beer or pay off bills. What can I say? They treat me like a tax collector when I come around.

Business means risk and investment. Most people don’t understand. In a rare occasion, a small bookshop agreed to pay in cash for 120 books. The price was agreed on, but she balked when it came to paying. She wanted a discount. I said no. She got mean and said, “OK, forget it, I’ll just call up the company.” That was pretty funny. She thinks there’s a company somewhere. Certainly she’s going to have to pay more going through a middleman. I slam a pack of books back in my bag. We’re testing each other. Who’s going to blink first? I know I’m ready to walk out though I hate to think of towing 120 books on my bike again. I guess she does want the books. She throws the money over and acts like I’ve just abused her. Maybe that bridge is burned. Maybe I could have been nicer. After all, the customer is supposed to be god – supposed to be. I don’t think these petty bookshops realize I’ve taken more than 2,000 books to local schools. They’re arrogant and mean because they think they’re dealing in rare commodities. I’ve heard some people stash away whole inventories and wait until the value goes up. They think they’re doing business. I think that’s theft.

In a few rare places, I’m lucky to make contacts with the tops in schools or hotels. They can wave through decisions. They’re usually savvy and know what’s needed. The problem is that the stronger they are, the weaker the subordinates are. I couldn’t get through to a manager in the top hotel in Laos because the front desk was too scared to disturb him. They told me he was out and I knew it was a lie. I had to chase him in the lobby.

People don’t like to see others succeed. It sets a new standard. Most don’t want to take the effort to reach it. It’s not the rain that makes the mud.

Busy, busy

Strakhov relates Dostoevsky’s own description of his epileptic ecstatic aura

“For several moments,” he said, “I would experience such joy as would be inconceivable in ordinary life – such joy that no one else could have any notion of. I would feel the most complete harmony in myself and in the whole world and this feeling was so strong and sweet that for a few seconds of such bliss I would give ten or more years of my life, even my whole life perhaps.”

The evolution of mankind

It all started with beer of course. The idea to tie helium balloons to a lawn chair and float over the neighborhood. He thought about doing it to his best friend-slash-nemesis whom he secretly hated, but why not show everyone once and for all. He strapped himself into his own destiny without resistance.

There was enough beer flowing at the party to make it all happen in minutes. Without a jerk, he elevated. His buddies burst into wild guffaws and he knew they were rolling their bellies in the lawn though he couldn’t see them. Already 10 meters high, he knew he’d roll over if he looked down.

Then he found himself laughing alone. He couldn’t hear his friends anymore and he suspected his familiar world had already collapsed into a google map. There was no wind because he was moving at the same speed. In fact, it was silent and silent enough to suddenly make him terrified.

Up and up and up. He broke out into a sweat in the way one does when the dentist drill comes close. The sun was glowing through the balloons and he could imagine god assessing his life. He had no reason to go to purgatory. He was faithful to his wife, he had kids, a dog, a car. He had just bought a new set of power tools. He suddenly became intensely nostalgic of his simple honest life. He wanted to go back.

Then he realized it wasn’t all over. He had scissors. He was prepared. He wasn’t that stupid. All he had to do was cut the string and he’d be back home in minutes. He friends would cheer and he’d be a celebrity. “Man flies in a lawn chair.” Simple. No sweat.

When the string was between the scissor blades, it started to vibrate like an umbilical cords. He couldn’t cut it. He became confused as to what life he was trying to save and what life he was yearning for.

First he heard the voice of his wife nagging him. “Why don’t you listen to me? I told you to take out the garbage.” Then his boss telling him he’d be fired if he dared to make another mistake. What mistake? Whose garbage? It wasn’t that he was disgusted with those voices or wanted to escape. It was just that he realized that they were far below him and way out of hearing distance. It didn’t seem to matter anymore. He felt no anger, no yearning, no discontent. He felt elevated.

It must have been the sun and the thinning air. He was giddy and light-headed. The blue of the sky had turned to an inky intensity and the clouds were crystalline. It wasn’t just the balloon cord vibrating. The entire sky was vibrating and in an astonishingly and harmonious way.

Then the image of the clouds began to peel like wallpaper. It was quiet like a movie set without action. In a clean cesarean cut, the photofinish surface of the world he knew unzipped and in that instant, he knew what his life had been printed on. He started to laugh with a joyous gurgle and his lawn chair picked up speed. He had nothing to steer with, but it zeroed in on the Kodak finish, photoglossy surface, straight to the slit that was opening wider to accommodate his lawn chair and then he sailed straight through to the other side.

What a foolish man. Darwin would have shook his head. Darwin spent all that energy and time to put the world into scientific order. Why would someone not cut the string?

 

Naughty artist

In the beautiful crumbly historic section of Savannakhet, some delinquent didn’t have spray-paint so opted for charcoal. It’s Lao graffiti and a defilement of a historic building. On the other hand, nobody really considers this a significant building so maybe it’s art. I think it’s art. It gives me great pleasure and that’s why I took this picture.

Today, I did a little teacher training. I was asked to compare Japanese and Lao students. I was told that Japanese are all smart. My response was that there’s “smart” in terms of people who do perfectly what they’re told and there’s “smart-smart” in terms of people who rebel against what they’re told to do and in turn do something magnificent. Like anywhere in the world, you can find both types.

I was told that Japanese are healthy because they live until 100. Of course there’s “healthy” in terms of living until 100 and then there’s “healthy-healthy” in terms of living vigorously to any age.

The Lao don’t need to compare. They have great potential for learning languages. Most people are bilingual or trilingual considering all the minority languages, dialects and the fact that they listen to Thai girls screaming on Thai TV dramas every day.

The Lao are talented communicators and can make sure you’re not treated like a stranger. Formal education doesn’t tap into this talent, but rather smothers and chokes it to death in a cloud of authoritarian chalk.

I asked the teacher if she liked teaching. She said she didn’t. I asked why. She said because she’d rather work in rural development. I asked why. She said because that’s her mother’s wish and she’d love to fulfill her mother’s intent. I asked why her mother wants her to work in development. She said because her mother is a teacher. Aha! See! All roads go back to the same source.

It’s how we define words like teacher, student and school that determine if we’re talking about art or defilement. I felt today’s “teacher training” was successful because the teachers understood the spirit of it all. I think they know that there’s joy in watching a flower bloom especially when you’ve been a part of it. Likewise, it’s not much fun to watch shrinking violets die because they’ve been told they have no worth.

High tide

Sometimes I look at a calendar to check that I haven’t missed Thanksgiving or Christmas or New Year for that matter. It’s easier to keep track of time by noticing when pineapples are in season or when the Mekong is high.

The swelling and drying up of the Mekong are dramatic markers of time. In the dry season, you can practically walk to Thailand. Big bushes grow on the sand spits and you’d forget you’re even looking at a river. In the rainy season, it turns into a big brown swath of water that can easily be seen from an airplane or rocket. In this season, if you tried to swim to Thailand, you’d probably be swept down as far as Cambodia.

Many people like to ask how long it took me to finish the books. I could be poetic and say it took four rainy seasons or 49 phases of the moon, but I usually just say around three years. That’s not an exaggeration when I think about the time it took to learn how to type Lao. I didn’t know anything about InDesign and made mistakes like throw away all the links.

I figure you just have to keep moving. I will not get stuck, even on books. Laos will have fiber cables and broadband in five years and I’m going to get ready for that. There will be a day when schools won’t be necessary either. That’s what I think.

I’m happy that I’m 49 and I can still move. There are bureaucrats who would resist changing the position of their desk and I can’t really imagine how they’ll ever be useful to anyone else. 

Magic handlebars

There is a solar energy company in Laos. They use German technology and try to make it affordable for the rural Lao. They have lots of magical things like a solar powered water pump, a solar powered water purification machine, a solar powered water heater and a solar powered refrigerator. They also have an electric bicycle.

I took one for a spin. They look like normal shopping bikes, but with a slight twist of the handlebar you move silently forward with a surprising jolt. They say it’ll take you uphill.

What would life be like if I were coasting up hills? I could load 120 books and cruise around with no sweat. The thought is tempting and it’s hard to forget the sensation of twisting that handlebar.

I know it’d be hard to go back. It would be hard to get back on a regular bike and pump again. A regular bike would feel slow and ponderous and I’d never want to accuse a bike of such things. 

A bike is a bike is a bike and it can still do wonderful things. The other day, I swung into the temple school to bring books. I heard the novices murmuring, “The book seller’s here. The Japanese-on-a-bike-book-seller’s here.”

There was a small group of novices buying pickled fruit from this man. His handlebars don’t have magical propulsion, but they serve well to display his products. I’m sure when he too sells out, he cruises on home feeling light and happy.

Not a shabby breakfast

Yes, it’s been more than two months. Is Martin slacking off? No, not really.

It’s almost a year since the first books were printed, so momobooks and the board of directors convened for an annual assessment. Future strategies need to be hammered out. In reality, momobooks inc. still consists of one person, so the board meeting was pretty much a solitary night of tossing and turning.

The decision is to forge on. A complete curriculum is more convincing than a handful of books and if the dry rot is to be attended to, a new structure must be built. Most people agree there’s dry rot and most people agree that a nice house would be better, but most people don’t know where to begin. My job is to pick up the hammer.

It’s easier to keep hammering when I can imagine what the house is going to look like. There will still be more bent nails along the way, but the job will get done. These days, it’s not so hard to wake up to another day and appreciate a good breakfast.