Turtle and the Moon is the first of a trio of “Turtle” stories. It was given to me in small pieces, beginning in the summer of 2017 with its first phrase: “Turtle had had many lives.” More thoughts arrived over the course of the summer, usually in the middle of the night, words quickly scribbled down to be deciphered in the morning. It all seemed to develop on its own schedule, revealing itself slowly, seemingly when it felt I was ready for more. The brilliant red “sturgeon moon” arrived in the story and my life together that fall. So, in many ways, it felt as if the final chapters were brought to me by the Moon herself.
It explores a moment of doubt. Something I believe all artists experience, as the pressures of living call into question the validity of spending so much time in isolation in the hope of serving “the muse.” Art may nourish the soul, but the body does have to be fed as well.
I chose to tell the story as an anthropomorphic tale. Animal stories exist in many traditions and I draw on several of them here to portray my storyteller, his friends, and the world in which he lives. It is an instance where casting the scene in an unfamiliar setting allowed a certain clarity to emerge. And the characters arrive with much of their resonance already in place. Turtles and hawks are powerful symbols, as of course are the ancient tree and the constantly recurring presence of the moon.
Briefly, the story unfolds as follows.
When we first meet Turtle, he is the self-appointed storyteller in the small world that surrounds the secluded pond where he lives. His age and experience have given him a unique perspective, which he shares freely with those around him. It seems he has been telling stories for as long as anyone can remember. Curious and reflective, he often seems to be listening to his thoughts and stories as intently as his audience, as if he too is hoping to discover what they might mean.
But his inquisitive eye is far from blind to the frivolity of his art. A story will not after all feed your belly or keep the rain off your head. And so, when he overhears a criticism, an idle comment expressed by someone not prone to listening, implying that he is “simply full of himself”, talking to hear himself heard; he is stung, and cannot seem to shake it off. He takes his doubt to his teacher. She merely laughs, and suggests he look more closely at the source of the criticism. Perhaps it offers far more information about their own state of being.
He returns to his routine to consider her advice, and as he is completing his tasks, he remembers that the Full Moon will occur that night, an event of treasured beauty. And while observing the Moon, he again is blessed to hear her song, and through it, discovers a further clarity about his life and his vocation. Not unlike the sharing that occurs when the Moon sings, he reaffirms that his own storytelling is a gift, one that he is bound to share with those around him, as all gifts are best shared…
As the story developed, I realized that it was refering back to a conversation I had had over thirty years before. I was seeking to find my way at the time, and a close family friend advised me: “There are no wise men in villages anymore.” She was warning me about looking for answers outside myself. But very often we find those answers when another points us to the questions. The Turtle in the story is just such a creature, a storyteller who shares his wisdom with those around him, offering them a new perspective, and perhaps helping them discover what to ask.
The decision to present his story in verse, grew out of the material and I think helps to show the self-reflection that is so much a part of his life. Originally conceived without illustrations, my experience with Turtle and the Swallow caused me to return to it this year, illustrate the text, and publish the story in book form. The images and captions you see here are as they appear in the book.
The teacher who inspired this story passed away late last year. She has been an inspiration to me for most of my adult life. It was a blessing to be able to share the story with her when the writing was completed several years ago. I hope you enjoy it as well.
The book and drawings will be exhibited at “Three Books, Three Genres” in NYC in the Spring of 2021. Look for more information here later this spring.
The book is now available as a print on demand title from Barnes and Noble, Inc.