come on, play tag
A photograph of a drawing I saw today reminded of me of the summer I was in several Natural History Camps. Amazing that my outstanding memory of that summer wasn't learning to swim or camping or anything useful, but of how many times people told me that I looked like Opal Jennings. A counseler at the photography camp seemed dead serious and disbeleiving when I reassured her that I wasn't.
spinning games and trimming down
exhaust plainsighted exploration.
swimming inside out and out
fresh expanses see new birth.
dreaming deepest bluest sea
colors two horizons glass
smooth lines turn heads up
to immortal black and white,
knowledge frowns on soft wonder.
I don't think I'll put water in the background of the drawing I'm trying to finish. I don't like the idea of an ocean being there, I've never thought of the ocean as being bleak. The ocean is comforting, in about the same way that learning is fullfilling. It doesn't make me happy, the ocean doesn't make me want to curl up inside a basket and float to sea, but it's comforting in its reassurance of hope. So much water and unknowable life, within view, suggest that there must be somewhere to go. Knowing one thing inevitably leads to another deeper understanding of something else, most times entirely different. Again, it absoloutely proves that there is someone smarter than you, so many people smarter than you that there is always someone to help you find an answer. New concept waiting to be understood.
Sounds sappy, yes. But definitely true.
spinning games and trimming down
exhaust plainsighted exploration.
swimming inside out and out
fresh expanses see new birth.
dreaming deepest bluest sea
colors two horizons glass
smooth lines turn heads up
to immortal black and white,
knowledge frowns on soft wonder.
I don't think I'll put water in the background of the drawing I'm trying to finish. I don't like the idea of an ocean being there, I've never thought of the ocean as being bleak. The ocean is comforting, in about the same way that learning is fullfilling. It doesn't make me happy, the ocean doesn't make me want to curl up inside a basket and float to sea, but it's comforting in its reassurance of hope. So much water and unknowable life, within view, suggest that there must be somewhere to go. Knowing one thing inevitably leads to another deeper understanding of something else, most times entirely different. Again, it absoloutely proves that there is someone smarter than you, so many people smarter than you that there is always someone to help you find an answer. New concept waiting to be understood.
Sounds sappy, yes. But definitely true.