a single hand "
a single hand writing several stories
"unlike most children.
i hated to see the day come
when i will be grown up.
i wish to be young always"
henry darger
we seem to find comfort in categories and peace in placement. the world
moves quickly around us. there are so many variables, and unanswered
questions. who? what? when? and more importantly why? we feel like we
constantly need to pick a side and stick with it...whether it be
through the years. taking one facet of myself, both personally and
creatively, and holding onto it so tightly, until there was nothing but ash
in my hand. who would i be without a definite description? a tangible tag
line? the weight of one question can be enough to make a back break.
i picked up the phone and called an old friend.
"this is how i am feeling...and i don't exactly know what to do with it"
"come visit me" she said "and we will figure it out together"
i packed my bags. three pairs of pants. two shirts. and one old notebook that i
had yet to press a pen to. i kissed ella on the cheek and said.
"i will see you when it's sorted."
for two days we sat in silence on that beach and listened to the waves.
foolishly, i waited for an answer to wash up on to the shore. but by my sandy
feet there was only an old rusty bottle cap to speak of. this was of no
surprise to me.
"nothing is easy" i thought.
"yes" she said aloud, "everything is possible!"
i looked at her. as deep into her big eyes as i could stand. it was such a
simple four word statement. yet, it sat inside me with the strength of
dynamite. little explosions started going off in my head that got bigger and
bigger and bigger. with my lips slightly moving to the beat of the moment, i
kept repeating her words over and over to myself...
"yes...everything is possible, yes...everything is possible,
yes...everything is possible."
she sat back on her elbows and stretched out in the sun.
"you know" she said. "the thing with you, is that you somehow managed to take
a tiny percent of yourself, the smallest fraction, and turn it into your only
equation. in this life, there are so many sides to everything. and that
includes you. you have so many things waiting to come out...and yet you insist
on building from only one part of yourself. you wouldn't point to your pinky
and say this is my entire body. just like you wouldn't look at one branch and