WHERE did I write, “I’m backwards. I’m backwards.” The speaker was the youngest Burnstyn child. Mom would know his name. Did I like the sound of his delight or was it being told the story that framed my attention? Was it the adults laughing? Had he been playing like this before we came? He was in the driveway of their new house. It was my first visit and I was not yet seven.
I look at my dozen postings and think how awkward. We come to everything backwards. We join in now, and then construct back to some point that serves as a beginning and then feel like we are moving forward. How do we manage this? Is it like turning everything on our retina upside down? How many ways of playing are really partially incomplete alterations of perception?
Is there some mind button to push that reorients what is there?
What is it about buttons and the notion of pushing something to set it into motion? Buttons are knobs or attachments. They join layers of fabric. They are a catch and release.
There's the wobble. I'm backwards.
2 comments:
well knitted together. is it a page or a pot holder?
Dawn, I am getting pay dirt out of reading your pre-book...
One thought rattled through my head. I love the pictures that let eyes do different things along with reading words. I wonder if the pictures, the examples of artifacts of your play, are not too seductive to a new reader of your final book. Kinda, this is the way it is done. Even though you offer it as yours. And ask the reader, what is yours, what will yours be? Surprise yourself and surprise me. Maybe you could spur off from time to time listing other play modes. To keep reminding the reader to use your text as a diving board into a very large cosmic ocean of blue and pink water at body temperature. Swim far.
The other day here on Lopez I was at a new accquaintance's house. I thought he was a very "ordinary," average person from seeing him at he hardware store, etc. Well my socks got blown off. In an area to the side of his garage was a very large cactus farm. All the same cactus. Tall, 8, 10, 14 feet tall and pretty close together. Amazing. He has a chair and just likes to silently share the space with his cactus. I will send a picture..must go pack with camera.....maybe 80 cactus. Lurking under the ordinary is fantabularity and more.
geevee
well knitted together. is it a page or a pot holder?
Dawn, I am getting pay dirt out of reading your pre-book...
One thought rattled through my head. I love the pictures that let eyes do different things along with reading words. I wonder if the pictures, the examples of artifacts of your play, are not too seductive to a new reader of your final book. Kinda, this is the way it is done. Even though you offer it as yours. And ask the reader, what is yours, what will yours be? Surprise yourself and surprise me. Maybe you could spur off from time to time listing other play modes. To keep reminding the reader to use your text as a diving board into a very large cosmic ocean of blue and pink water at body temperature. Swim far.
The other day here on Lopez I was at a new accquaintance's house. I thought he was a very "ordinary," average person from seeing him at he hardware store, etc. Well my socks got blown off. In an area to the side of his garage was a very large cactus farm. All the same cactus. Tall, 8, 10, 14 feet tall and pretty close together. Amazing. He has a chair and just likes to silently share the space with his cactus. I will send a picture..must go pack with camera.....maybe 80 cactus. Lurking under the ordinary is fantabularity and more.
geevee
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