Face

"Brimming with intolerable rapture, I almost killed myself many, many times. I wasn't trying to, my love for life just kept spilling me over boundaries into places from which some people don't come back. Hardly restricted by social convention, I hurt myself by being so rambunctious and romantic." How much of our past does our face betray? What future fortune can you read in the lines and skin? What trace is left by other lips and fingers and fists? In this beautiful, boisterous account, by turns soul-searching and erotic, acclaimed Chicano and Native American poet Jimmy Santiago Baca reveals the story of his life as told through his face. An orphan, a runaway, and an inmate in a maximum-security prison before he became a world-renowned writer, Baca's life has been touched with rapture and despair, passion and purgatory. "In my eagerness to thrust forth and excel in life," Baca writes, "I found fame in all the wrong places." Presented by Restless Books as part of an ongoing series of succinct essays featuring some of the world's most distinctive voices, this installment of The Face is Baca's meditation on the different faces we show the world, and the ways in which the world marks us with its joys and sorrows. With echoes of Walt Whitman and Pablo Neruda, Baca speaks for a people alienated by history, in search of their own recognizable faces. The Face is the record of a lasting quest for self-recognition by one of our most distinguished poets.

What did your face look like before your parents were born? In “The Face: A Time Code”, bestselling author and Zen Buddhist priest Ruth Ozeki recounts, in moment-to-moment detail, a profound encounter with memory and the mirror. According to ancient Zen tradition, "your face before your parents were born" is your true face. Who are you? What is your true self? What is your identity before or beyond the dualistic distinctions, like father/mother and good/evil, that define us? With these questions in mind, Ozeki challenges herself to spend three hours gazing into her own reflection, recording her thoughts, and noticing every possible detail. Those solitary hours open up a lifetime's worth of meditations on race, aging, family, death, the body, self-doubt, and, finally, acceptance. In this lyrical short memoir, Ozeki calls on her experience of growing up in the wake of World War II as a half-Japanese, half-Caucasian American, of having a public face as an author, of studying the intricate art of the Japanese Noh mask, of being ordained as a Zen Buddhist priest, and of her own and her parents' aging, to paint a rich and utterly unique portrait of a life as told through a face.