Abraham Yeung - Week 16 - Ivory
As far as the eye can see, islands. Floating in the nothingness. No stars to light up the endless abyss around them, no sun or clouds or birds or anything else, for that matter. Just emptiness with the occasional stone island. Every once and a while, dust from under the abyss coalesces together, forming platforms of stone. Rising and falling, the islands form, sway and eventually crumble.
Upon each island lies a brick, a little ivory brick. This ivory brick has a gleam to it that seems to, against all odds, glow in the abyss. Polished to perfection, smooth and flawless, a perfect glittering white. As the islands sway to and fro in the abyss, one ivory brick turns to two. Two to three. Three becomes four, and slowly, these ivory bricks form towering structures on the islands. Some become recognizable structures—a skyscraper, a house, a tree. Others shoot up into the sky, becoming a distant point into the sky.
But ivory is not all that the islands have become home to. Time passes, and the ivory grows, changes with the islands. Ivory trees grow green leaves. Ivory castles become real castles. Ivory towers become reinforced with steel and rebar, so that they can last forever. Some ivory towers turn into beacons of light, piercing the dark abyss with endless light. Some ivory islands build bridges to other islands, expanding horizontally into the abyss. The ivory can be anything, everything that the islands need it to be.
Yet the ivory is heavy. Some islands grow ivory towers so high, they bend and break. Some islands turn ivory to gold, covering everything on them with the glittering allure of gold. Some islands have become overgrown with trees. Ivory piles onto ivory, and some islands become hoards of ivory bricks, unchanged from the second they appeared.
The abyss takes all. Islands covered in pure ivory, islands fat from their own weight, even islands whose stone platforms have become cracked and weathered under the endless traversal of the abyss. As these islands silently crash into the depths of the abyss, they break apart, disintegrating as they reach the bottom. As the stone platforms come apart, the island unravels itself, layer by layer. Leaves fall off branches. Gold chips off gold. As more and more of everything comes apart, at last, the ivory bricks that have formed them come into view once again. But these ivory bricks are special. They are not of the abyss, nor are they of the dust that forms the islands. The moment they reach the bottom of the abyss, they vanish without sound nor light. They simply disappear. And yet, over the countless eons of creation and destruction, each ivory brick seems oddly…
familiar.
Upon each island lies a brick, a little ivory brick. This ivory brick has a gleam to it that seems to, against all odds, glow in the abyss. Polished to perfection, smooth and flawless, a perfect glittering white. As the islands sway to and fro in the abyss, one ivory brick turns to two. Two to three. Three becomes four, and slowly, these ivory bricks form towering structures on the islands. Some become recognizable structures—a skyscraper, a house, a tree. Others shoot up into the sky, becoming a distant point into the sky.
But ivory is not all that the islands have become home to. Time passes, and the ivory grows, changes with the islands. Ivory trees grow green leaves. Ivory castles become real castles. Ivory towers become reinforced with steel and rebar, so that they can last forever. Some ivory towers turn into beacons of light, piercing the dark abyss with endless light. Some ivory islands build bridges to other islands, expanding horizontally into the abyss. The ivory can be anything, everything that the islands need it to be.
Yet the ivory is heavy. Some islands grow ivory towers so high, they bend and break. Some islands turn ivory to gold, covering everything on them with the glittering allure of gold. Some islands have become overgrown with trees. Ivory piles onto ivory, and some islands become hoards of ivory bricks, unchanged from the second they appeared.
The abyss takes all. Islands covered in pure ivory, islands fat from their own weight, even islands whose stone platforms have become cracked and weathered under the endless traversal of the abyss. As these islands silently crash into the depths of the abyss, they break apart, disintegrating as they reach the bottom. As the stone platforms come apart, the island unravels itself, layer by layer. Leaves fall off branches. Gold chips off gold. As more and more of everything comes apart, at last, the ivory bricks that have formed them come into view once again. But these ivory bricks are special. They are not of the abyss, nor are they of the dust that forms the islands. The moment they reach the bottom of the abyss, they vanish without sound nor light. They simply disappear. And yet, over the countless eons of creation and destruction, each ivory brick seems oddly…
familiar.
What's your ivory going to grow into?
I really wanted an ivory brick as the image, but I guess they don't make those anymore. Who woulda known?
Also, don't mind me. Kinda just practicing for the true story assignment. It's still in line with the blogging topic, I swear. Just use themes and such.
Hi Abraham, I don’t know if I interpreted your blog correctly, but I took the concept of ivory as a way that signifies our junior year, or more generally just how our lives are gonna go. Ivory is such a funny thing, it’s everywhere and the way it can change what it's growing on is truly fascinating. I wanted to touch on the way that you wrote your blog, I noticed you said you were practicing for your true story and I really enjoyed the third person perspective you wrote it from. It was a bit different from your regular first person blogs, but I really enjoyed it. Your blogs are always so interesting and it was truly a pleasure being in your cohort this semester. Going back to your blog about ivory, I really resonated with the line about how ivory can be anything because I think it speaks a lot to what’s out there for all of us. We can do anything we want, we can do anything people need us to, in a way we are both the island and the ivory at the same time. Our junior year in a way feels like ivory, no matter how much time will pass it will stay with us, the experiences, the familiarity, the troubles, the highs and lows it’s all a part of us. Thank you for writing such interesting blogs week after week, it was truly a pleasure to be in your cohort and I really do hope that we get another opportunity to have a class together next year.
ReplyDeleteHi, Abraham. Once again, a very poetic and interesting read. I love how this blog can be interpreted in many ways. Personally, I thought the ivory bricks were representative of the human species or civilizations. Beyond just the physical aspects, I thought the bricks represented consciousness and emotions which are essentially what humans fundamentally are. People can create such complex things, like buildings, relationships, cultures, etc. but eventually succumb to their mortality and vanish into nothing. This blog, for some reason, made me think of this pair of twins I used to be friends with in elementary school. Even though they were physically basically the same, they couldn’t be more different in their personalities. I wish I still knew them today; I’m interested if they continued evolving so differently or if they became more similar throughout the years. I think that relates to your point about the differences between ivory bricks, despite them being seemingly similar at first glance. The imagery was very vivid and I could literally imagine the ivory bricks being built up, or torn down. This whole read felt very existential (in a good way) and I enjoyed how it was abstract but very clear in the tone throughout. This the year, I’ve been awed by your style of writing and I really hope you continue your poetic and engaging writing style in the years to follow! I’m sad this is the last time (I think) I’ll be able to read your writing this year but I hope to catch up next year. Wow, last blog comment ever.
ReplyDeleteAnother wonderful, expressive blog! I always love reading these over and over again, as I type out my blog comments and ponder for a while. Ivory really is an exquisite material; it's just a shame that it comes at the cost of many animal lives. I really liked the contrast in your blog, making it seem so full of life. Creation versus destruction, light versus darkness, growth versus decay—it's always the opposing forces of nature that make life so interesting and vibrant. And then you have those in between, like the ivory, unaffected by the chaoticity of the world. Just the way you describe the ivory tower, pristine, reflective of light in a way that dispels the darkness, is like a scene from a fantasy movie, and I think you executed it very well. The novels you read really reflect in your writing; always so eloquent and just beautiful. It’s always fun to read an abstract blog and try to figure out the meaning behind it, while appreciating the lovely wording. Thank you for being a great AP Lang and blogging cohort buddy! I'll definitely miss reading your blogs and your amusing comments during class.
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