聽丹, listen to the red

‘What about the second word?’

‘丹, red.’

His eyes grew wide open, ‘You mean like red earth, the sacred red earth of Maōri ?’

‘If you take it that way, yes.’

‘Listen to the red.’ Tane looked at the green name on his shirt, ‘It’s neat, it’s here...’ Suddenly everything seemed meaningful. The things at their reasonable places. He had something to say but yet didn’t know how to say it.

‘Sufficient cause. As is.’ Then I pronounced the name in a slow tone, ‘Tan...丹.’

It seems the name weighed him confidence. ‘Teach me how to write it well.’

‘My pleasure...’ It was.

I asked him why he liked calligraphy. To my surprise but then not, it came from his mother, Elizabeth. She had noble origin, and well versed in with literature and fine arts. She used to do embroidery while occasionally looking at the baby boy Tane. In their house there used to be antiques and paintings. Now there was only one or two pieces left.

‘You must have something to tell me, Gt. I know from your look.’ Tane said.

‘About what?’

‘Me.’