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 20, 2012

art history

first day of class
test
WHAT?
Jungian personality test

he places each student's name, test result, and our career choice on a large index card and hangs them on a string across the top of the chalkboard.

mine reads:
Wen : INFP : Singer
next to Rasmus: INTJ : Cognitive Scientist
and Dennese : ENFJ : Artist

it's my senior year
art history class.. the hardest class to get into.. and i had my coveted spot
*****

i cant tell you why exactly.. but that class changed my life. 
it opened my eyes to the world around me.
it gave me eyes to see the culture i had been cultivating slowly all my young life.  to see the value in it.  to see i hungered for more.  and to see that my future was bright..  daunting.. but bright!

in my mind flashes an image..
mr. simpson holding this picture up to the class.. venus of willendorf
i had no idea what a venus was..  wasnt that a planet?
he says.. 'write an essay on what this is.. you got 15 minutes.' (omg.. aha moment!!.. explains later)
i dont remember what i wrote.. that and many other essays just like it.. are long gone.
i do remember thinking the boobs were arms holding baskets of water or something.  haha
amazing, there's no way i can look at it now and see it the same way.. fresh, naive, uneducated.

we hand our papers in.  and he explains what it is.  jaws drop.  not one of us had a clue. 
defining moment.
beginning a lifelong fascination with art.
*****

graduation
i walk up the hill to return my cap and gown
there stands mr. simpson and his young wife.. my childhood neighbor.
he calls me over.
pats me on the shoulder.
and says quietly.. 'you are ready.'
*****

as a kid, you dont realize the meaning of some of the things adults say.
i was young and dumb.. but those words stuck with me all my life.
just as having to write in under 20 minutes has stuck with me.. all my life.

smiles.







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4 comments:

  1. RosieMarch 20, 2012 at 9:45 AM

    Thank God for special teachers that spark our imagination and touch our souls.

    Everyone should have one or two...

    ReplyDelete
  2. EricaMarch 20, 2012 at 9:46 AM

    Hurray for writing under pressure.
    Well done. I'm satisfied with these fresh wordsss.

    ReplyDelete
  3. wwGINCHwwMarch 20, 2012 at 10:46 AM

    That's what mammaries are made of ... oooops ... that's what memories are made of!

    ReplyDelete
  4. SharonMarch 20, 2012 at 3:06 PM

    Words teachers say! Sometimes so devastating! Other times so perfect they burn into you forever. Nicely done.

    ReplyDelete

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