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

Halloween not for me!

Halloween not for me!

Picture this:
Senior year of high school. My friend Sharon and I decided to go trick or treating. Back in the 60’s you could go from house to house for miles and miles and believe it or not, with no adults hovering around you. People were much more trustworthy.

Even tho Sharon and I were approaching our 18th birthday we wanted to go trick or treating one last time. For good times sake. Probably our last til we started our families.

My mom was very laid back. Mom, Sharon and I want to go trick or treating. Can you help us? Home made costumes are the best. Anything goes! Well, since my dad was a milkman, he had bib overalls. We borrowed his bibs and flannel shirts and mom took some coal from the coal bin and rubbed it on our faces. We went as cute little hobo’s.

House by house…
Knock knock knock…
Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat!

After getting a good ½ bag full of goodies, we are on our way back home. We walk up the walkway to this one last house, open the door and enter into a screened in porch. We knock and a woman dressed in a habit opens the door. She took one look at me and said “Steve, you are too old to be begging for candy”. “Who the heck is Steve” Sharon and I asked each other. We both just shrugged. She was a nun! An official nun! We decided to get out of there before she ripped our disguises to pieces. She ruined everything!

I always wondered if Steve was a student of hers…
Poor Steve!!!

After high school friends get lost but memories stay. Mom captured that moment. It is displayed with some of the best.
Thanks mom!  Ily


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