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!

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

and the winner is...

and the winner is…

When I was maybe about 8 years old, I used to spend a lot of time at my aunt and uncles house which was just across town. Way back then (and even now) during the summer time parks would entertain kids with teaching them how to make bracelets, keychains, etc out of intertwining different colored plastic strands. We would also have water balloon tossing on very hot days. Making sure balloons popped so we could replenish our bodies with moisture. Contests were held with walking from one side to the other with a peanut shell on a butter knife. The team that made it without dropping their p-nut shell –were the winners. My team was always so-so. We’d win some…we’d lose some.

One hot summer day they were holding a freckle contest. Oh boy…It’s a sure win for me. I spend a lot of time in the sun. In fact when I was  really really little---like still in a playpen, my mom, dad, brothers, aunts, uncles and cousins used to go to Bennet’s Island and go bullhead fishing. Everyone is catching their share of bullheads and occasionally a catfish or carp. The hot sun is making its way across the earth. While everyone is flipping their cane poles in and out of the water, they forgot about me sleeping in the playpen on that hot hot sunny day. I had 2nd degree blistery burns. I was little enough not to remember this, only remember what I had been told.

Anyways…getting back to the freckle contest. I am a true red-head, very light complexion, spending a lot of time in the sun. I entered the freckle contest…first place prize is a big bag of goodies. The bag was tied tightly with twine and you get to have your picture taken. This was a big deal…a big deal to me and my competition---cousin Dale. He had brown hair, darker skin than mine but he also had freckles.


There were 5 of us that entered the contest.
One is eliminated…
#2 is eliminated
#3 eliminated….oh my chances are getting better…now it is just me and cousin Dale. The judges look at Dale then Reese. Then another look at Dale and another look at Reese. Finally they have made their decision.

and the winner is…
I walked back to my aunts house…empty handed---no picture









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