There is a haunting beauty in the way you trace stories through teeth and fruit, through the wildness both tamed and lingering beneath the surface. Your words carry the weight of what is lost and what quietly returns, glowing like a secret light in the dark. I’m moved by the delicate balance you hold between waiting and pulling, between the tooth left to loosen and the note left beneath the pillow. Thank you for weaving such a tender reflection on the markings we carry, shaped by nature and myth alike. It lingers like a whispered story I want to return to.
As summer approaches, I find myself thinking of visits to the local orchard, picking peaches with their warm, fuzzy skin and the sweet delight of their juiciness. There is so much that can be made from a peach, each one a small celebration of the season’s abundance.
Happy approaching summer, Summer! :) I'm delighted you've brought in the sensory experience and celebration of the peach. I adore peaches and how wonderful that you have a local orchard warming towards "the round jubilance of peach." One of my forever favorite poems is "From Blossoms" by Li-Young Lee.
Yet another mysterious post in which you manage to combine the (very) personal with a theme that’s relevant to it and turn it into a compelling story. Your secondary title “on missing teeth, fruit-glow, and rerouted hunger”, draws me into this in a way I start to recognize by now, but will never tire me.
Losing a tooth by biting a pear, a personal (yet also shared) memory, throws me on the hazardous path to your conclusion, that is in no way final, other than the textual confines of your post. You also include some poetic lines to peak my interest further.
Mentioning your sister (not for the first time) as your closest-in-blood counterpart helps to understand what you’re getting at, without spoiling anything of the outcome.
The loss of canines (“Edited Wildness”) and the orthodontic corrections (filing) have come to mean the loss of what could have been the wilder side of you coming to the fore.
The Crivelli’s Madonna image is an association that you have with pears. In Christian art, pears often symbolize the incarnation of Christ and his love for mankind. For you though, that is hardly relevant, and I like that aspect of this post; it underlines the fact that personal history, associations and feelings very often outweigh the general ‘meaning’ of art works.
There is a deep symbolic connection though, about which you bravely tell in your article, as it’s related to your undoubtedly painful memories of the loss of your only pregnancy. Your vision of fruit glow comes from being connected in my opinion, as you say “whether it was deity, daemon, or longing itself”, revealing a level of openness that is rather rare.
Your presence at the office, where your fingernails leave claw marks on your keyboard, damaging the keys most connected to minding your tone and filing down your bite. It seems your wilder (or should I say unadulterated?) self is now waiting for a next sign like the fruit glow, but at the same time aware of the dumbing down our society and limitations can put on the appearance of such a sign.
Now, to answer your questions:
-I’m not sure if the tooth puller or the note writer is truer to me, as I am certainly both at the same time, but I gravitate towards the note writer.
-What’s wobbling right now is my shoulder (literally), and the sense I’m on the verge of revealing my deeper (and darker) thoughts to the world, yet feel too ‘controlled’ to do so.
-My ‘wolf teeth’ have been filed down early on in the physical way, my mental wolf teeth have undergone a very long life of (sometimes harsh) suppression by my upbringing, schooling and career, but still feel sharp enough to bite when really necessary. Testing that feeling is, to say the least, risky.
-Fruit stories: the first fruit I think of is peach. About ten years ago, after a long and hot day in southern France, I ate a cooled but overripe peach that was so juicy, its juice poured down my chin and neck onto my chest. Its taste was so heavenly sweet, that all my senses were totally overwhelmed for a moment by the experience. Association: the album ‘eat a peach’ by the Allman bros. band, of which I’ve been a fan since the early ‘70s.
The fruit I enjoy most for its own typical sweetness is pear, preferably in the form of a sorbet. Association: the many pears in the surrealist paintings of René Magritte.
When I was a child, I learned that raspberries and blackberries could keep you going for a long time, and they were growing abundantly where I grew up, being typically northern forest fruits. Until this day, when going out to watch and photograph birds, I can’t stay away from the blackberries that I come upon frequently. That association with life force is quite a strong one, that has occurred in many of my dreams. No (external) associations have been strong enough to come to mind now.
Thank you so much, Chandler, for writing this! Your posts have been a rare find for me.
Hi Vincent! I'm touched you felt called to rewrite you reply and feel seen/heard by your thoughts--thank you! I also relate to your reflections on suppression and risk.
There really are perfect peaches aren't there. Of the fruits, they are one of the most sensory for me and so I can easily step into your experience--the round jubilance of peach--on a hot day. I'm also a berry lover and will now associate those dark and delicious forest fruits with life force.
I really should learn to appreciate a sorbet but ice cream wins out for me. And when you mentioned Margritte, a few images came to mind. A quick google search revealed more Margritte pears than I was originally aware. I'm going to have to ponder this recurring motif.
Your comment has just highlighted for me that my sister as counterpart is a "foil" of sorts. We are close in age and bond, yet quite different in temperament and life style. She loves to send me photos of things that she's trying to chose between...and without fail decides on the opposite of my preference or reasoning. I suppose I'm a mirror for her too.
Hope your shoulder is feeling less wobbly and that you aren't feeling much slowed down from your favorite activities.
I was wondering what sun and rising sign your sister is when I read your reply. My shoulder is -very slowly, which I hate- getting a little better. Alas, my favorite activities are photography and playing the piano, for both of which I need my two arms and hands. But I did pick up reading again, what I was doing way too rarely.
That’s interesting, knowing you’re an Aries sun. Hardly what I’d expect! And lots of 12th house positions, even more surprising.
I’ve just finished re-reading Kawabata’s “sound of the mountain” and thoroughly enjoyed it. Funny how an accident can bring much more than just inconvenience.
Dear Chandler, I was just getting ready to submit my -long- reply to your beautiful post, when I got an error message that said something like 'access violation' and boiled down to my losing all of my reply. If I feel really courageous some time, I may re-write it, but I'm a bit too annoyed right now to do so. I hope you understand.
Hi Vincent! Thank you for spending time with my post and your thoughts and I'm sorry your reply was lost. Technology gremlins are real and very annoying. Hope you're having a lovely April.
Thank you for understanding, Chandler! I'm going to type my replies in notepad or something similar and copy-paste them when I’m ready from now on. But maybe I’ll have another go at this reply today.
an incessant loose tooth tongue wiggler and avid physical note write
Where and/or when have your “wolf teeth” been filed down?
I've refused multiple offers from various dentists to file my fangs. Inamorata loves them.
What stories or associations gather for you around fruit, or pear specifically?
I used to glean wild apples from around the Queendom, roadside trees, neighbors with neglected orchards, garbage cans in the truck bed filled with apples. One friend lived on an old farm and had a tall pear tree that split into three trunks, that was always heavy with fruit, and dropped pears like bombs. I added them to the cyder, but had to switch to using a kevlar bag to press the mash because when you crush pear, it just turns into a pulped soup.
I also dream of making a brandy that contains at least 10 types of fruit. apple, pear, peach, blackberry, blueberry, grape, strawberry, raspberry, plum, apricot. Might happen?
Teeth. I've collected many. In small bottles. I keep them in a printer's box, hanging in my study.
I've always dreamt of teeth. They are always falling out of my mouth into a blood-drenched white porcelain sink. Very distressing. And so, when I was diagnosed with osteoporosis and warned to be aware that literally every drug which treats the deficiency *may* cause jaw necrosis, I cannot say my dreams didn't suddenly feel like omens. Isn't it ironic that drugs which aid in slowing bone loss might literally contribute to the death of one's teeth?
My mom was trained in the 'dental arts;' it was her first job, taken after my dad left us. She made plaster models of teeth and designed and sculpted wire and acrylic appliances--to 'correct' teeth an orthodontist deemed defective.
Have you ever heard of an ovarian dermoid cyst? My aunt was diagnosed with one in her twenties. Skin, hair and teeth. The most bizarre thing--it developed inside my aunt's ovary as she developed inside her mother's womb. Not a baby. Not a twin. Simply 'mature' tissue. I've never quite wrapped my head around it. Image: teeth forming in an ovary. Wild stuff, no?
I could sit quietly with this revealing post all afternoon. I'm thoroughly enjoying your exploration of fur and teeth, loss and replacement. Sadly, I haven't the time to write more. :(
Enjoy your time continuing to linger among the shadows in the forest. Keyboards are over-rated. ♡
I don't often remember my dreams but I've had a few involving teeth falling out...but into what I don't remember. Your vivid dreams sound distressing indeed! I'm a grinder so mine have been prematurely shortened.
I have not heard of an ovarian dermoid cyst. Very wild! Will I turn to the forbidden archive and google images? Hmmm...
Sadly. I am neither a puller nor a note-taker nor even a patient waiter. I have always been a worrier, testing how loose it is, how much it moves, trying not to disrupt it in case it can re-root, then allowing my tongue to worry at it some more. Dreading the moment it came fell out (Is it my fault?? Did I push it out??), dreading that it never would and I'd have to eat on one side of my mouth forever. As an adult, I've morphed my Wobble-Worrying into intentional Wobble-Playing. It's a magical thing - no pressure, no forcing, maybe a little Playing, a little Waiting, a little Notes-to-Myself. The brain sorts it out, as my jaw did whether I knew it or not.
But wolf-teeth, oh wolf-teeth! I had a lovely pair of finely pointed, high in the gums, authentic fangs. The orthodontist did indeed pull them down to a "proper" position and filed them down to look "proportionate". I missed them and bragged about my special teeth for years. 🧛♀️
Ahhhh there's magic and a lesson in your intentional wobble-playing strategy. As a worrier myself, I will have to try your approach. Thank you for sharing about you, intentional morphing, and your special teeth.
Thank you, Marie! And just one more reason to cut our apples and dip them into soft cheeses, caramels, or other delights. :)
I wasn't familiar with verruca plungers...but the google told me this is related to warts. Ouch! I've heard of a wart charm: 1) rub salt on a wart over newspaper while telling it to go away; 2) crumple the paper and throw it away in a can/bin not on your own property; 3) Poof! It will vanish. Repeat...as necessary?
This was my favorite entry to date. The vulnerability of keyboard and medical prognosis chases the fairy tale insight I’m used to finding.
To your questions, I’m a staunch note taker- as a kid I’d never pull a tooth, I was convinced that a nerve would snap and I’d have a heart attack. I imagined something like a piano wire connecting the two.
Thanks for reading and sharing a response, Benjamin! I cannot uncouple the connection between tooth/mouth and heart that your nerve and piano wire analogy has sparked in me (minus the terrifying notion of an ensuing heart attack -- but we do get to make symbols our very own, don't we.)
There is a haunting beauty in the way you trace stories through teeth and fruit, through the wildness both tamed and lingering beneath the surface. Your words carry the weight of what is lost and what quietly returns, glowing like a secret light in the dark. I’m moved by the delicate balance you hold between waiting and pulling, between the tooth left to loosen and the note left beneath the pillow. Thank you for weaving such a tender reflection on the markings we carry, shaped by nature and myth alike. It lingers like a whispered story I want to return to.
As summer approaches, I find myself thinking of visits to the local orchard, picking peaches with their warm, fuzzy skin and the sweet delight of their juiciness. There is so much that can be made from a peach, each one a small celebration of the season’s abundance.
Happy approaching summer, Summer! :) I'm delighted you've brought in the sensory experience and celebration of the peach. I adore peaches and how wonderful that you have a local orchard warming towards "the round jubilance of peach." One of my forever favorite poems is "From Blossoms" by Li-Young Lee.
Excerpt:
O, to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into
the round jubilance of peach.
I appreciate this so much!
(My rewritten reply)
Dear Chandler,
Yet another mysterious post in which you manage to combine the (very) personal with a theme that’s relevant to it and turn it into a compelling story. Your secondary title “on missing teeth, fruit-glow, and rerouted hunger”, draws me into this in a way I start to recognize by now, but will never tire me.
Losing a tooth by biting a pear, a personal (yet also shared) memory, throws me on the hazardous path to your conclusion, that is in no way final, other than the textual confines of your post. You also include some poetic lines to peak my interest further.
Mentioning your sister (not for the first time) as your closest-in-blood counterpart helps to understand what you’re getting at, without spoiling anything of the outcome.
The loss of canines (“Edited Wildness”) and the orthodontic corrections (filing) have come to mean the loss of what could have been the wilder side of you coming to the fore.
The Crivelli’s Madonna image is an association that you have with pears. In Christian art, pears often symbolize the incarnation of Christ and his love for mankind. For you though, that is hardly relevant, and I like that aspect of this post; it underlines the fact that personal history, associations and feelings very often outweigh the general ‘meaning’ of art works.
There is a deep symbolic connection though, about which you bravely tell in your article, as it’s related to your undoubtedly painful memories of the loss of your only pregnancy. Your vision of fruit glow comes from being connected in my opinion, as you say “whether it was deity, daemon, or longing itself”, revealing a level of openness that is rather rare.
Your presence at the office, where your fingernails leave claw marks on your keyboard, damaging the keys most connected to minding your tone and filing down your bite. It seems your wilder (or should I say unadulterated?) self is now waiting for a next sign like the fruit glow, but at the same time aware of the dumbing down our society and limitations can put on the appearance of such a sign.
Now, to answer your questions:
-I’m not sure if the tooth puller or the note writer is truer to me, as I am certainly both at the same time, but I gravitate towards the note writer.
-What’s wobbling right now is my shoulder (literally), and the sense I’m on the verge of revealing my deeper (and darker) thoughts to the world, yet feel too ‘controlled’ to do so.
-My ‘wolf teeth’ have been filed down early on in the physical way, my mental wolf teeth have undergone a very long life of (sometimes harsh) suppression by my upbringing, schooling and career, but still feel sharp enough to bite when really necessary. Testing that feeling is, to say the least, risky.
-Fruit stories: the first fruit I think of is peach. About ten years ago, after a long and hot day in southern France, I ate a cooled but overripe peach that was so juicy, its juice poured down my chin and neck onto my chest. Its taste was so heavenly sweet, that all my senses were totally overwhelmed for a moment by the experience. Association: the album ‘eat a peach’ by the Allman bros. band, of which I’ve been a fan since the early ‘70s.
The fruit I enjoy most for its own typical sweetness is pear, preferably in the form of a sorbet. Association: the many pears in the surrealist paintings of René Magritte.
When I was a child, I learned that raspberries and blackberries could keep you going for a long time, and they were growing abundantly where I grew up, being typically northern forest fruits. Until this day, when going out to watch and photograph birds, I can’t stay away from the blackberries that I come upon frequently. That association with life force is quite a strong one, that has occurred in many of my dreams. No (external) associations have been strong enough to come to mind now.
Thank you so much, Chandler, for writing this! Your posts have been a rare find for me.
Hi Vincent! I'm touched you felt called to rewrite you reply and feel seen/heard by your thoughts--thank you! I also relate to your reflections on suppression and risk.
There really are perfect peaches aren't there. Of the fruits, they are one of the most sensory for me and so I can easily step into your experience--the round jubilance of peach--on a hot day. I'm also a berry lover and will now associate those dark and delicious forest fruits with life force.
I really should learn to appreciate a sorbet but ice cream wins out for me. And when you mentioned Margritte, a few images came to mind. A quick google search revealed more Margritte pears than I was originally aware. I'm going to have to ponder this recurring motif.
Your comment has just highlighted for me that my sister as counterpart is a "foil" of sorts. We are close in age and bond, yet quite different in temperament and life style. She loves to send me photos of things that she's trying to chose between...and without fail decides on the opposite of my preference or reasoning. I suppose I'm a mirror for her too.
Hope your shoulder is feeling less wobbly and that you aren't feeling much slowed down from your favorite activities.
I was wondering what sun and rising sign your sister is when I read your reply. My shoulder is -very slowly, which I hate- getting a little better. Alas, my favorite activities are photography and playing the piano, for both of which I need my two arms and hands. But I did pick up reading again, what I was doing way too rarely.
Ohhh, I know the answer to this off the top of my head: Gemini sun (12th house along with some other planetary buddies) and Cancer rising.
May you find treasures in your reading as you continue to heal.
That’s interesting, knowing you’re an Aries sun. Hardly what I’d expect! And lots of 12th house positions, even more surprising.
I’ve just finished re-reading Kawabata’s “sound of the mountain” and thoroughly enjoyed it. Funny how an accident can bring much more than just inconvenience.
Dear Chandler, I was just getting ready to submit my -long- reply to your beautiful post, when I got an error message that said something like 'access violation' and boiled down to my losing all of my reply. If I feel really courageous some time, I may re-write it, but I'm a bit too annoyed right now to do so. I hope you understand.
Hi Vincent! Thank you for spending time with my post and your thoughts and I'm sorry your reply was lost. Technology gremlins are real and very annoying. Hope you're having a lovely April.
Thank you for understanding, Chandler! I'm going to type my replies in notepad or something similar and copy-paste them when I’m ready from now on. But maybe I’ll have another go at this reply today.
Breathtaking writing. I love the connections between teeth and writing.
Thanks, Larissa, for the lovely comment and for haunting this room with me.
tooth puller or note writer?
an incessant loose tooth tongue wiggler and avid physical note write
Where and/or when have your “wolf teeth” been filed down?
I've refused multiple offers from various dentists to file my fangs. Inamorata loves them.
What stories or associations gather for you around fruit, or pear specifically?
I used to glean wild apples from around the Queendom, roadside trees, neighbors with neglected orchards, garbage cans in the truck bed filled with apples. One friend lived on an old farm and had a tall pear tree that split into three trunks, that was always heavy with fruit, and dropped pears like bombs. I added them to the cyder, but had to switch to using a kevlar bag to press the mash because when you crush pear, it just turns into a pulped soup.
I also dream of making a brandy that contains at least 10 types of fruit. apple, pear, peach, blackberry, blueberry, grape, strawberry, raspberry, plum, apricot. Might happen?
What a lovely fruit forward dream! With this being a 10 year (2+0+2+6)....
Teeth. I've collected many. In small bottles. I keep them in a printer's box, hanging in my study.
I've always dreamt of teeth. They are always falling out of my mouth into a blood-drenched white porcelain sink. Very distressing. And so, when I was diagnosed with osteoporosis and warned to be aware that literally every drug which treats the deficiency *may* cause jaw necrosis, I cannot say my dreams didn't suddenly feel like omens. Isn't it ironic that drugs which aid in slowing bone loss might literally contribute to the death of one's teeth?
My mom was trained in the 'dental arts;' it was her first job, taken after my dad left us. She made plaster models of teeth and designed and sculpted wire and acrylic appliances--to 'correct' teeth an orthodontist deemed defective.
Have you ever heard of an ovarian dermoid cyst? My aunt was diagnosed with one in her twenties. Skin, hair and teeth. The most bizarre thing--it developed inside my aunt's ovary as she developed inside her mother's womb. Not a baby. Not a twin. Simply 'mature' tissue. I've never quite wrapped my head around it. Image: teeth forming in an ovary. Wild stuff, no?
I could sit quietly with this revealing post all afternoon. I'm thoroughly enjoying your exploration of fur and teeth, loss and replacement. Sadly, I haven't the time to write more. :(
Enjoy your time continuing to linger among the shadows in the forest. Keyboards are over-rated. ♡
I don't often remember my dreams but I've had a few involving teeth falling out...but into what I don't remember. Your vivid dreams sound distressing indeed! I'm a grinder so mine have been prematurely shortened.
I have not heard of an ovarian dermoid cyst. Very wild! Will I turn to the forbidden archive and google images? Hmmm...
PS. Teeth reminds me of foyer opossum. :)
Foyer opossum is still 'on display!' I quite literally dusted around him the other day.
Sadly. I am neither a puller nor a note-taker nor even a patient waiter. I have always been a worrier, testing how loose it is, how much it moves, trying not to disrupt it in case it can re-root, then allowing my tongue to worry at it some more. Dreading the moment it came fell out (Is it my fault?? Did I push it out??), dreading that it never would and I'd have to eat on one side of my mouth forever. As an adult, I've morphed my Wobble-Worrying into intentional Wobble-Playing. It's a magical thing - no pressure, no forcing, maybe a little Playing, a little Waiting, a little Notes-to-Myself. The brain sorts it out, as my jaw did whether I knew it or not.
But wolf-teeth, oh wolf-teeth! I had a lovely pair of finely pointed, high in the gums, authentic fangs. The orthodontist did indeed pull them down to a "proper" position and filed them down to look "proportionate". I missed them and bragged about my special teeth for years. 🧛♀️
Ahhhh there's magic and a lesson in your intentional wobble-playing strategy. As a worrier myself, I will have to try your approach. Thank you for sharing about you, intentional morphing, and your special teeth.
You might enjoy a wee book called The Squiggle Sense, by Kelso and Engstrom. They provide kind of a koan for intentional Wobble-Playing.
Thanks for sharing, Karen! I'm going to look into it.
Gosh, this was beautiful, so finely tender . Stirred me so x 🖤
I am a note taker too. I also grew up around keen tooth pullers ( and verruca plungers ). I was always afraid of choking on apples like Snow White.
Again such a special piece - moved like music x
Thank you, Marie! And just one more reason to cut our apples and dip them into soft cheeses, caramels, or other delights. :)
I wasn't familiar with verruca plungers...but the google told me this is related to warts. Ouch! I've heard of a wart charm: 1) rub salt on a wart over newspaper while telling it to go away; 2) crumple the paper and throw it away in a can/bin not on your own property; 3) Poof! It will vanish. Repeat...as necessary?
This was my favorite entry to date. The vulnerability of keyboard and medical prognosis chases the fairy tale insight I’m used to finding.
To your questions, I’m a staunch note taker- as a kid I’d never pull a tooth, I was convinced that a nerve would snap and I’d have a heart attack. I imagined something like a piano wire connecting the two.
Thanks for reading and sharing a response, Benjamin! I cannot uncouple the connection between tooth/mouth and heart that your nerve and piano wire analogy has sparked in me (minus the terrifying notion of an ensuing heart attack -- but we do get to make symbols our very own, don't we.)