image by J, enthusiastically taken with a new camera
While cleaning the house this weekend, J and I found a brown packet that looked suspiciously like those envelopes they used in swordfighting TV serials to contain instructions on further adventures, coups or secret family histories ("Miss XXX, you cannot marry her, because she is actually your sister!"). But I digress. The truth about its content is... "It's my baby hair!" J exclaimed.
In the surprisingly well-preserved 33 year-old envelope we found a pink sheet with chinese calligraphy and instructions for living that read more like riddles. It also contained his 八字, the 8 "facts" of his birth- the hour, time of day, day, year and lunar cycle...I think - the 8 "determinants" of his life - 8 strings that are woven into his fate. It was just as well the words were phrased as riddles we didn't understand; since it was not answers we were looking for.
What we wanted was in another smaller gold packet it contained.
In this packet was a red piece of paper folded into a small square. We unfolded the red paper, and there, all 33 years and 6 months old worth of it - J's baby hair.
So folks, there was no genie released, no mystery revealed, no grand narrative to trace. I am afraid our only response, late Saturday morning with an afternoon of cleaning ahead of us, was this - "ah, so cute..."