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!

Monday, April 16, 2012

Don't bug me. I'm busy :)

It appeared from a distance that she was floating on an undulating carpet on her back carefree and relaxed.  As he got closer to her, he saw that a legion of sturdy water bugs were carrying her on their backs.  They were a thousand strong, under her,  going through her hair,  grooming her skin for dead morsels, cleaning away her waste particles with their little mandibles and fore feet.  she wore no clothes, but was clothed by their backs facing outward, and their tickly feet facing inward.

They stopped under a tree and with careful orchestrated engineering feats lowered her to the soft moss and got out from under her.  As humans go, she was a tremendous weight and caused them great consternation when her body parts swung freely and unexpectedly.  She was very sleepy and did not often stir on her own accord, but the body shifted on the hills and they had lost a phalanx this trip, from a leg thrown off and her belly flopping over behind it.


Crawling up the trees, they cut leaves that fluttered down and were tugged into place to cover her.  Night was coming and they needed to secure the camp against unfriendly colonies that might try to steel their queen.

All the army would be in a ring facing out surrounding her as she slept.


He was careful not to get too close.  He did not want to trigger the alarm.  Death would surely be the result.   She opened her eyes and smiled at him.  He had never seen a more peaceful face.  A steady stream of bugs were lined up with bits and berries to shove in her mouth.  All she had to do was open a narrow bit. lick out her tongue and chew. 

She paused to speak...  a few bugs tumbled out from scrubbing her tongue

 I want to join you , he stammered out.
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1 comment:

  1. SharonApril 17, 2012 at 1:03 AM

    I'm glad I was able to join the timed writing for this. It was great to get the feedback immediately. And, fun to take part in the discussion.

    ReplyDelete

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