The tree with the lights in it
For the newly sighted, vision is pure sensation unencumbered by meaning
Yesterday there was a girl on the grass in the park. She was standing there with a fistful of strings and six balloons of as many colors above her head. For a while she was just watching things. Then she picked up a big branch, about as tall as she, the kind that's spread out like a fan. She carried it around for a bit, holding it up in front of her, not letting go of the balloons. Then she placed the branch at the base of a big tree and began walking around again. She picked up a smaller branch, this one with some greenery still on it, and placed it with the other. Her little sister toddled after her, and picked up a stick to place under the tree. No words were spoken.
It was all very important.
She knew what she was doing.
She identified as part of the world and not as witness to a spectacle. She picked up bits of the world and moved them to a different place than they were before, because that is what you can do when you are a part of something.
Their mother was watching from a distance, smiling, and Janan was taking pictures of men playing chess, and someone was singing "Wild Horses," and someone was yelling about white people, and water was coming out of the fountain, and I was lying on the ground.
Yesterday there was a girl on the grass in the park. She was standing there with a fistful of strings and six balloons of as many colors above her head. For a while she was just watching things. Then she picked up a big branch, about as tall as she, the kind that's spread out like a fan. She carried it around for a bit, holding it up in front of her, not letting go of the balloons. Then she placed the branch at the base of a big tree and began walking around again. She picked up a smaller branch, this one with some greenery still on it, and placed it with the other. Her little sister toddled after her, and picked up a stick to place under the tree. No words were spoken.
It was all very important.
She knew what she was doing.
She identified as part of the world and not as witness to a spectacle. She picked up bits of the world and moved them to a different place than they were before, because that is what you can do when you are a part of something.
Their mother was watching from a distance, smiling, and Janan was taking pictures of men playing chess, and someone was singing "Wild Horses," and someone was yelling about white people, and water was coming out of the fountain, and I was lying on the ground.