Blog Manifesto

Blog Manifesto


This blog is dedicated, as the title would suggest, to the qualities of being young. We are young writers. We are playful and sensitive, fluid and changing. We are unashamed with our art. We wonder at the world, puzzle over the meanings of things and twirl in delight at images and ideas that float by, grabbing at them as they pass. We are curious and constantly inquiring and prying concepts open and taking assumptions apart. We are on the ground, close to the earth. We have bare feet and wiggle our toes into nature. We carry our blankies still and wrap up cozy and comfy with each other and tell ghost stories and shiver at creepy things. We laugh and we cry and we take a lot of naps, drained from our outings and exertions.

We write as gifts to each other, tying them up in ribbon and leaving them around for each other to find, hiding and waiting for the person to wake up and read. Surprise! We weave our stories together to create a bond. One writes, then the other. then another again. We have a shared reality that we have crafted, bit by piece by patch, by string. We write simple, honest authentic things, with our unique voices. You can tell each one of us from the other, without knowing who wrote what. Our voices are clear and gentle and original. We whisper and our personalities roar! Like children, our feelings are strong, our passion for what we write shakes us. We are moved and sometimes left breathless, by our own words or the words of each other. We cannonball into each others spaces. We fall backward into each others writing, like into a pile of leaves or a soft bed. We gobble and grin and ask for more. (footnote kudos to JC)

Then we go to bed, wake up to a new day and do it all over again!

Monday, January 30, 2012

take my hand

no woobies for me.  didnt need em.  my comfort was far more compact and concealable.
i was a thumbsucker. mhm. an ear tugging thumbsuckin' cuddler. grins

right now.. i dont really want to write.  i want to be the next room over giving moral support.  giving a woobie to my journal companion.. who could use one right now as she writes..... her pain........

what is a woobie.. a thing of comfort.  a cherished item. 

as adults.. we outgrow thumbs and woobies.. or so we like to tell ourselves. 
we just replace them with different things.

food.
fancy cars.
snazzy clothes.
women... or men.

we seek comfort in a world that is often cold and inexplicably cruel.  we seek solace from the dark. 

all this week.. you writing alongside me, has been my woobie.  you holding my hand as i stick my timid neck out, again and again.. your friendship and kind words.. bolstering  me. 
right now.. i wish i could do the same for you, my friend. 

though, i know you are resilient and strong..
im ready and waiting, with a warm hug and a box of tissues..



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1 comment:

  1. RosieApril 12, 2012 at 2:50 PM

    Ah JC, you help me write the hard ones. I really appreciated you that day, and so you know.. I will stick my neck out timidly too and write you the teased story.

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