Being Large Critters, Rhinos need to conserve our energies, just to keep the System up and running. We can’t fritter ourselves away, just on a whim.
That is why We think of ourselves as generally Placid and Even-Tempered, almost to a fault. We are contemplative. We eat, We snooze, We socialize in modest ways, We mind our business. Self-possessed… almost all the time.
Still, there is that 1% window…
YIR Readers have asked about how We maintain the extensive wardrobe We display in our blog. Do We send it to the cleaners, or what? Are they Paris originals?
We at YIR chuckle. That is because all our outfits, however ravishing, are entirely Imaginary. Rhinos don’t own Anything, as in Nothing Whatever. We just include them in our posts for fun.
With Imagination We can Imagine laundering just as easily as We Imagine the outfits themselves.
Today, in our series of ‘Stories-I-Like’ from our Readers, is “Pierre”, written and illustrated by the gifted Maurice Sandak. Pierre is a boy who knows his own mind. This little book is great fun, grand for reading aloud. You can have it read to you on Google!
Pierre’s perspective is pretty limited. It struck Us Rhinos as interesting, since each of Us has blinders provided by our own choices and assumptions. Those Limitations are by choice, not by fact.
Obvious, but still surprising, right?
Judith Viorst wrote “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day”, in 1972. It is illustrated by Ray Cruz. The point seems to be that some days don’t work out as imagined. It is humorous.
Rhinos all know about this Fact of Life. We must take it as it comes, and make the best of it, when possible. Or try tomorrow, when it gets here.
That’s what growing up is about, even for Us.
Ms. Johanna Spyri wrote “Heidi” in 1881, and it has been popular ever since. Heidi is a spirited little girl, who charms her gloomy grandfather, and Us in the bargain. Up there in the Alps. We like Heidi.
We Rhinos know very little about family dynamics, just because. We know our Moms and Moms know their Offspring, but otherwise, We just associate with the Rhinos in the vicinity. And let it go at that. Of course, We do have grandfathers, but it would never occur to Us to go “relate” to one. Actually, it’s the same for our Dads.
On this topic, We are wired differently. Rhino.
Our YIR Reader Ann asked for an illustration for a series of stories told to her by her Dad when she was little. The stories took place in ‘The Googelock Forest’ and featured Ann and her friends Adventurating, which is the point of Youth, right?
A gift from her Dad that will never grow old.
Hans Christian Andersen, wrote ‘The Emperor’s New Clothes’ (1837). It tells of two tricksters who victimize a vain ruler, selling him an invisible suit of clothes, a magnificent suit which only the gifted can see. When the Emperor walks out in public in his new duds, the public is surprised, to say the least. Does the Emperor learn anything? No.
Rhinos are confused by Human responses to the body. After all, inside each outfit is a naked somebody. What’s the fuss? The Emperor invests in imaginary clothes, while for Rhinos, that’s all there are. Easy-Peasy.
Antoine de Saint-Exupery wrote and illustrated ‘The Little Prince‘ in 1943. A quote from it: “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.”
It is a tender and poetic story, impossible to describe. It is hard for Us to believe it was not written by a Rhino, but We are assured it wasn’t.
Touching, and just a bit disturbing.
Mr. H. Dumpty (featured in Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass) discusses matters with Alice while he is perched on a wall. As you may know, things do not work out for him, though up to that point he seems to feel he knows it All.
Any Rhino would point out that wall sitting has related concerns. Walls come in many sizes and feature two sides. To avoid accidents, inspect both sides of the Wall in Question.
When did you last hear of a Rhino falling off a wall? That’s right.
H.C. Andersen’s tale ‘The Nightingale’ tells Us of an Emperor who replaces a plain little singing bird with a techno-bird, radiant in gems. The Nightingale flies away. In time, the Machine breaks, and in mourning for song, the Emperor pines. But the Nightingale returns, and the soul-beauty of its song turns Death from the Emperor’s door.
What’s not to like about this?
Right. Nothing.
Your Inner Rhino 