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!

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Future

The future is easier to picture among friends.  I look around and wonder how I will live  and where I will live with a greater degree of cheerfulness than if I think of it alone.   When alone, my mind winds down and loses track and focus.  But my friends wind me up like a clockwork so I can write a bit.  Their gift to me is focus.

Now that I am older, I think a bit more about how I will die.  I used to really hate the idea of dying.  It scared and upset me.  I used to use the word, If I die.  and then I realized it is actually, When.  when I die.

When I was young, I had so much illusion of time.   Time to take chances and time to be idle and time to do things over again.  Time to improve and time to reinvent myself, to correct my path and strive for better.  Time to explore and travel. See things.  Do things.

Now.   Now I live more in the immediate.  Shall I get dressed soon?  Maybe I will sleep tonight.  Can I manage lunch?   I don't concern myself about what day it is, the days are much the same now.  Monday has no special meaning for me.  Saturday,  Sunday, weekend, it doesn't matter.   Winter is the same temperature as Summer here.  Fall is less light. the changes are subtle.   I don't get the dramatic season changes that used to mark time passing.  Oh? is Sunday Easter?   A season for soup?  Fresh Tomatoes? Is the winter squash finally ripe? I dunno, I don't care anymore.

We are looking all around and waiting for signs for what our future holds.  I prefer to follow the light.  I'm waiting for the light to show up.  I am open to just about any direction.  Wherever the wind blows us will be fine.  As long as I get to keep my journal and journal companions I will be fine.


3 comments:

  1. Rosie...
    I can foresee more writings in your future! =)

    ReplyDelete
  2. ..and now, journal companions all snug and tucked back into place :D
    everything will be alright.

    see you at 2pm sharp!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. JC...
      I love your little comment ^^^ and I can feel the warmth...
      Reese~

      Delete