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!

Sunday, February 12, 2012

My Child {[ Sunday 12, 2012 ]}

Sunday, Feb. 12,2012




Have you ever been so tired and sore that you would just be as happy to stay were you land once you get home, such as a bed, couch, hell even the floor as soon as you walk through the door?


 Lazy bones popping as you stretch over to grab for a chip out of a bag.


Feet numb and pained but once shoes and socks are discarded that soft easing sigh lets out of you chest once you lean back in your favorite cuddling spot?


"God..it's good to be home..." Finally once everything starts becoming normal after three days of hard work in horrible weather conditions and standing on your feet from five am to six pm.
 Lips chapped and sore, my son hugs me.
Just a simple quick little hug was all that I needed.
 He decided to make things while I was away and missing him during his weekend vacation from school.
I know he is smart and bright but never seen him just..make pretend with toys.
He's never been much of a..toy playing child.
 Always been hard to buy for during Christmas and so on. 
The simplest things such as a box will be played with for hours, even days compaired to an expensive toy in a toy store..
So there I am, just laying were I landed when he brings his 'toy' he had been making all day while mommy was gone.
Just a plan, boring cardboard shoe box.
 Glasses slipped back on face while my eyes try to keep open for him to show me his new toy.
 Simple ink pen drawing of a house on the side and scribbled lines going to and fro from side to side on the lid.
No matter what it is I always praise him for everything he does.
"Open itttt mommmm..."
 Slowly I wiggle and stretch to raise up to see the contents.
A new soft napkin lined the bottom perfectly from corner to corner as the carpet.
Simple drawn door, windows, and a table on one wall. A dresser and lamp on the opposite side.
 A bed made with toothpicks and notebook paper in the corner with a cute little rubber monster finger puppet standing in the middle of the floor.
 Just the coolest thing I had ever seen him create.    
These simple things in my life is what I cherish the most. And I hope you all do the same.
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