I'm surrounded by pengiuns... they keep creeping into my consciousness... ever since yesterday when I started looking for old Bloom County strips and where the most recent adventures of Opus could be found.

I have Happy Feet on the brain and the Penguin Lament in my inner ear. My co-worker is wearing socks with penguins on them. My husband has told fond stories of his long association with Opus-as-Personal-Mascot (both love the Tuba... both love Police... sing with me "every cake you bake..." ) to our daughters.

It shouldn't surprise me then that my friend/mentor Suzanne has had a personal essay published in the NYT which features her son's relationship with penguins. (thanks Kelli for the link!)

I love her words, always have. I learn so much from her writing and regret often that I didn't work with her while I was in graduate school. Our schedules never quite matched, and I believed at the time that I could not work with both fiction and poetry, even while I was sneaking in drinks of memoir in between.

Actually it doesn't surprise me that her work fits in with my current flightless fancy. I'm in one of those Search for Meaning phases, a time when I'm trying to organize all the disparate parts of myself into Something That Makes Sense.

Suzanne, though, points out that things don't always make sense to the outside world, not when the "I" firmly believes something special about the "I".

I admire Jin's courage to stand for himself and Suzanne's courage to love.

These are things a penguin's heart would know.

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