But who can resist that face? The big eyes, the spit curl, the chubby wrists propping up that double chin? This kid looks very happy to be in the world. She's eager to see everything; and everything, so far, has been delightful.
Or maybe not. The world can shift in an instant; who knows what will happen next? (by the way, that's the same look I have on my face right about this point in the quarter...)
This kid likes Maryjanes. She likes that olive tree. She likes the sidewalk leading up to her front door, the way it turns so precisely. She tap dances up that sidewalk. She loves the person taking the picture. She loves her dress, and probably twirled in front of the mirror.
She loves trees. She loves that car. She loves her house. She loves suspenders. She thinks she looks awesome.
She likes red shoes. She likes pink sweaters. She likes the grass. She loves her brothers. She feels protected. Safe. Right where she belongs.
She likes wearing sweatshirts at the beach. She loves the feeling of opposites: warm sand, cool air.
She becomes kind of a dork in high school. She loves books. She loves long hair. She tries out for school plays. But it's not so easy to be in love with the world anymore. It's not so easy to feel safe. It's not so easy to know right where you belong. It's not so easy to think you look awesome.
That's when writing begins.
When she writes, this girl kind of loves everything the way she did as a child, even the not-so-beautiful things. In writing, she can remember Maryjanes and red Keds and beaches and station wagons. But she can also write about what's happening right now, and the what's-happening-right-now begins to make sense.
Or not. It doesn't really matter. Because when she writes she's eager to see everything. When she writes, she knows where she belongs. When she writes, she pretty happy to be in the world just as it is.
Cool!
ReplyDeleteI think if there is one upside to Facebook it is that all of my youthful pictures will be memorialized in internet land!