Growing Versions

The first petition he drafted this school term was about addressing the wasp population on the school yard. He told his classmates that if they signed the petition, he would let himself be stung 7 times and then deliver the petition to the school office. After accidentally getting stung by one a short time later, we reassured him that no one expected him to put himself through that 6 more times.  The petition was plenty. This week, he has drafted a new one. A petition is only ever a start, but a start it is.

The eye of the storm is where all the action and destruction is. Sometimes being displaced from the centre or the axis  keeps you safe. Feeling off-kilter can feel strange and uncomfortable. However, being off-centre gives you something the centre cannot. 

This has been a challenging year for me and my family.  Through grim periods and light, buoyant ones, I have often turned to art for inspiration, solace and distraction. I've always understood on some level that art is important, not just as an optional luxury that can only be valued when times are good. However, this year, my understanding went bone deep that art can keep us breathing. I have been writing for fun, which has encouraged my kids to write for fun.  We've been tracing images, creating comics and inventions. We watch movies and make movies and critique movies. I have been reading books to shut out the world or to open it up. A friend recently admitted that she kind of wished that she were just enough sick to be in hospital on i.v. fluids for a few days to get caught up on sleep and netflix.  "You know," she said, "i.v sick, but not so sick you cannot sleep or enjoy movies." I like to think about art as a fluid.  It is normally circulatin...

This summer my kids grew a little more before my eyes. They tried out new roles and looks out of the range of the scorching eyes of classmates that have known them since preschoolhood. Video games and ocean currents re-wired their circuits. Most nights, my kids went to bed long after me.  I woke up to inventions carved out of syrofoam and pop cans and the leftovers of a Barbie rave. These campfire sparks. These flares.  These tiny red hot embers. These night lights.