The next day， I quit my jobs and invested my last paycheck in art supplies and began doing what I loved. I hadn，t painted a picture in 15 years， because we barely scratched out a living on the farm in Missouri， and there hadn，t been money for the tubes of paint， and canvas and frames. I wondered if I could still paint or if I had forgotten how. My hands trembled the first time I picked up a brush. But before an hour had passed， I was lost in the colors spreading across the canvas in front of me. I painted pictures of old sailing ships and as soon as I started believing in myself， other people started believing in me， too. The first painting sold for 1，500 before I even had time to frame it.
The past six years have been filled with adventures. My children and I have gone swimming with dolphins， watched whales and hiked around the crater rim of the volcano. We wake up every morning with the ocean in front of us and the volcano behind us. The dream I had more than 40 years ago is now reality. I live on an island with a continuously erupting volcano. The only animals in the jungle are wild boars and mongooses and there aren，t any cannibals. But often in the evening， I can hear the drums from native dancers on the beach.
I，m free for the first time in my life. I am Tondalaya， the Fire Goddess of the Volcano， spelled with two “D”s and I，m living happily ever after.
火女神的写法是否有两个“D”？
八岁的时候，我看了一部电影：在神秘的岛屿上有一座喷发的火山和葱茏的丛林，丛林里有许多野生动物与食人族。统治岛屿的美丽女子是火山的火女神，名叫彤达拉雅。那是部糟糕的低成本电影，然而对我而言，它表现了完美的人生。受熔岩浆、嗜血动物和野人追逐是换取自由的一个小小代价。我极度渴望成为火女神。我将此列入长大之后要成为的清单中，并问女友火女神的写法是否有两个“D”。
多年过去，学校教育将我塑造成一个正统、负责、可敬的公民，我忘记了彤达拉雅。父母满意我那门当户对的婚姻，随后25年我成为一名好妻子，是四个孩子的母亲，是可敬而负责的社会一员。生活平静乏味得像碗燕麦粥。未来于我了然于胸：儿女长大、离家，与丈夫白首偕老，带养孙子孙女。
在我50岁的那个星期，婚姻突然结束了。房子、家具、我拥有的一切全给拍卖掉，用来偿还那些我从未知晓存在过的债款。一周之内我失去了丈夫、家园以及父母——他们对家里出现离婚心存抗拒。除了我四个年少的孩子，我失去了一切。我的钱够用来在找工作的同时租一所廉价公寓，或者我可以倾尽积蓄买五张机票从密苏里飞往天涯海角——夏威夷的大岛。人人都认为我打算逃到一个岛上，还认为能够活下去的想法太荒唐了。他们预测不用过一个月，我准会爬着回来。我隐隐地害怕他们是对的。
次日，四个孩子与我登上夏威夷的大岛，带的钱不足两千美元，明白这世界上无人能够帮助我们。我租下一间没有家具的公寓，我们睡在地板上，以谷物为粮。我有三份工作：跪擦地板、向游客兜售澳洲坚果、采集椰子。我每天工作18个小时，由于一天只吃一顿，体重下降了30磅。焦虑侵袭着我，我蜷曲在浴室的地板上，抖得像个患了炮弹震荡症的士兵。
一天夜晚，我走在沙滩上，看到远处乞劳伊阿火山喷出橙红色的岩浆。我正在太平洋岸趟水，观看着世界上最活跃的火山，然而我却白白地浪费了这精彩的一刻，因为过去让我挂怀，现在让我疲惫，而未来又让我惧怕。我只看到重担而没看到幸福，所以丝毫没有意识到自己几乎已经实现了童年的梦想。那一瞬间，我忘记了往昔，想象再次苏醒了！彤达拉雅——火山的火女神——终于到来了。
第二天，我辞去工作，把最后一笔薪水全花在艺术用品上，开始做起自己喜欢的事情来。15年以来我不曾画过一张画，因为在密苏里农场我们只是勉强糊口谋生，何况还没有钱买颜料、画布和画框。我怀疑自己是否还能画，怀疑是否还记得怎么画。第一次拿起画笔时，我的手都颤抖起来。还没到一个钟头，我就给涂在面前画布上的色彩弄得不知所措起来。我画的是古老的船只，等我渐渐拾起自信时，别人也开始对我有了信心。第一张画我还没来得及装框就卖出了1500美元。
过去的六年充满了冒险经历。孩子们与我和海豚一起游泳，观看鲸鱼，攀登火山口。每天早晨醒来，我们的前方是大海，后方是火山。我40多年前的梦想如今化为现实。我居住的岛上火山不断喷发，森林中只有野猪、猫鼬，没有食人族。而傍晚时分，我常常能听到土着在海滩上跳舞的鼓声。
有生以来我第一次感到如此自由自在。我就是火山的火女神彤达拉雅，名字的写法是两个“D”，而且从此以后我一直幸福地生活着。
My First Article
When I was sixteen I was already writing articles and offering them to any kind of editor whose address I could discover. These articles were of two kinds. The first， which I signed portentously “J.Boynton Priestley”， were serious， very serious indeed， and were full of words like “renaissance” and “significance” and “aftermath”， and suggested that their author was about a hundred and fifty years old. And nobody wanted them. They could not be given away. No editor had a body of readers old enough for such articles. The other kind were skits and burlesques and general funny work， written from the grimly determined humorous standpoint of the school magazine. One of these was accepted， printed and paid for by a London humorous weekly. I had arrived. (And my father， not to be found wanting on such an occasion， presented me with one of his fourpenny cigars， with which， as I fancy he guessed， I had been secretly experimenting for some months.)
The issue of the weekly containing my article burst upon the world. Riding inside a tram from Duckworth Lane to Godwin Street， Bradford， I saw a middleaged woman opening this very copy of the weekly， little knowing， as I made haste to tell myself， that one of its group of brilliant contributors was not two yards away. I watched her turn the pages. She came to the page； she hesitated； she stopped， she began to read my article. Ah - what delight！ But mine， of course， not hers. And not mine for long， not more than a second， for then there settled on her face an expression I have noticed ten thousand times since， and have for years now tried not to notice - the typical expression of the reader， the audience， the customer， the patron. How shall I describe this curious look？ There is in it a kind of innocence - and otherwise I think I would have stopped writing years ago - but mixed a trifle sourly with this admirable innocence is a flavoring of wariness， perhaps a touch of suspicion itself. “Well， what have we here？” it inquires dubiously. And then the proud and smirking Poet and Maker falls ten thousand feet into dubiety. So ever since that tram ride I have never caught a glimpse of the reader， the audience， the customer， the patron， without instantly trying to wedge myself into the rocks above the black tarn of doubt. As I do this， there is the flash of a blue wing - and the bird of delight has flown.
我的第一篇文章
我十六岁就已写文章，发现哪位编辑的地址就把文章投给那位编辑。这些文章有两类。第一类，签上“J. Boynton Priestley”的大名，写得严肃，非常严肃，满篇是诸如“复兴”“意义”以及“后果”之类的词，暗示文章的作者年事已高。这类文章谁也不要。白送都送不掉。没有哪个编辑拥有的读者是老得可以看这类文章的。另一类是些讽刺文、游戏文章和一般的趣味作品，均按学校刊物那种严格确定的幽默观点写成。其中一篇为伦敦一家幽默周刊所采用、所刊登、所付酬。我获得成功。（这回我父亲应付难局颇为得法，将他四便士一支的雪茄烟送给我一支，我其实偷偷地以他的雪茄作试验已经长达数月，我看我父亲是早有所料的。）
登我的文章的那一期周刊突然问世。我乘上从德克沃思巷开往布雷德福的葛德温街的电车，看见一位中年妇女翻开的正是那份周刊，我赶紧对自己说，她有所不知，该刊的卓越撰稿人之一就近在咫尺。我看着她一页一页地翻。她翻到了那一页；她犹豫了一下；她停下不翻了，开始看我的文章。啊——好高兴啦！高兴的当然是我而不是她。我也没高兴多一会儿，不过一霎那，因为她脸上露出一种我至今注意过千万次而且多年来尽力不予注意的表情——读者、听众、顾客以及资助人所特有的——否则我几年前就不写了——不过跟这种可钦佩的天真单纯夹杂在一起而显得有点难堪的却是一丝谨慎意味，或许就是疑心本身的一点表现。它半信半疑地在问：“嗯，看看这是什么名堂？”于是傲慢、自满而痴笑的堂堂诗人跌进了怀疑的万丈深渊。所以，自那次坐电车以后，我只要望读者、听众、顾客、庇护人一眼，就恨不得挤到黑黝黝的怀疑之湖上空的峻岩空隙里躲起来。当我这样做时，蓝色的翅膀一闪——欢乐之鸟早已飞去了。
Middle Age， Old Age
