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!

Thursday, February 9, 2012

My Child {[ Thursday 9,2012 ]}

Thursday,9,2012

I have made this decision to start writing about my son. Everyday.
Talking about my son is when I am at my happiest. So from now on
I will be doing this.
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Today, I know was going to be like any other day of my life. Simple
and short. Wake up, get Cameron dressed, jackets on, tread through
the neighbors yard up the hill to the bus stop to stand in thirty degree
weather. Not just..cold but ungodly cold. Damn wind blowing my hair
in my face as he clenches to me and snuggles his face deep down in
my side while holding his backpack in my other hand. So up on the
hilltop awaiting the bus we are, hes done took my jacket and put
himself in it as he always does when he gets cold.

Then I see those little green eyes peak up at me all tired and lazy.

'Mom..are we going to play our game? It's cold.."

Me and him have had this ritual since he started school that every
morning we play I spy. He lovees I spy. He's eye spied so many
items that I don't have many more to let him guess anymore..
Soo we start our fun game waiting on this bus to arrive..which is
always super early or super late. It's never in between, hence the
reason we stand there for ten freakin minutes in the cold.

Cameron..peaking around standing on his tipytoes staring over
my arm.

"I spyyy sometinnn...green momma."
"Grass?...  Noooo, Uhhh the house over there?... Noooo."

So we continue our special little game for at least 3 minutes
while I can't find what the heck this kid is seeing thats green.
Soo finally I just gave in and told him I give upp. He giggles
and steps back away from me as if he didn't know that it was
cold anymore and points at my face.

"Hehehe momma, its your eyesss! Your soo silly the color
was on you the whole time!"

Well silly me never thought to even mention that. Haha.
I gave him a great bigg ole hug while the bus started 
pulling around the corner. Soft little I love you's told to
one another as he sighs deep ready to get his day started.
I swear if I could I would get on that bus and go with him everyday... 

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