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

duct tape

can't call myself a country boy.. if i don't keep at least a few rolls of duct tape on hand at all times.  stuff comes in handy.

in between visits to the shriners hospital, my brother's leg would usually be in sad need of repair.  often it was just left in pieces.  i can remember ma being mortified to show the prosthetist his leg.  there were always holes.. scuffs.. scrapes.. screws missing (one of which i ate when we were toddlers).. dents.. and it was almost always broken beyond repair.  inevitably, there was duct tape involved in make-do repairs. 

when we were young adults, he no longer had help from the shriners.. and refused to look for other resources.  instead, he fashioned a leg out of machine parts and a universal joint off a drive shaft.. thing weighed a ton.  and of course, it included.. hillybilly chrome.  that leg nearly... or may have... ruined his back.  several fused vertebrae later, he was informed by the doctor that he needed to get rid of that leg or he would be confined to a wheelchair for life..  and it would happen sooner, rather than later. 

i guess he got rid of it.  last i heard he wasn't in a wheelchair.
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2 comments:

  1. RosieMarch 20, 2012 at 11:37 PM

    I'm glad you got this leg story down on paper. The idea of him crafting a leg from car parts is too funny.

    ReplyDelete
  2. reeseMarch 20, 2012 at 11:53 PM

    JC...
    I hope your brother got rid of it too...one leg usage is better than none.

    ReplyDelete

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