Friday, July 11, 2008
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
warning: this video ambushes you half way through. If you're like me, you'll be laughing and suddenly feel like crying. something about dancing and song and everyone joining in... something that makes you think of the heart of things... of what we were made for and meant for. something (obviously) that's hard to put into words. So I'll stop trying. And let you watch it for yourself.
Monday, July 7, 2008
(Photo taken with my plastic toy Holga camera.)
My nephew, Harry (6), wanted to play machine guns in the trenches with his little sister; Olivia (3), just wanted to play princesses with Harry. It was a predicament.
It didn’t stop Olivia. She went fearlessly into battle but here’s the thing: in the middle of the machine gun fire—down there in the trenches with Harry—knee deep in all that mud—there she was, carrying her pink handbag.
Clearly—even in no-man’s land—Olivia would not be seen dead without her handbag.
But what to put in a handbag that goes with you into battle?
For that I approached the expert. "Olivia," I asked. "What do you keep your handbag?" She looked up at me as if I was the most foolish aunt any child could possibly have--and said, "My friends."
Of course. Do children have to explain EVERYTHING to grown ups? I think so. Probably. Sorry.
She then proceeded to pull out of her handbag: a plastic carrot, a furry bear, a tiny doll with one arm and bad hair, a strange knitted creature, a teapot and a purple troll.
But anyway, that's how Handbag Friends began. And it's for Oliva (and her pink handbag) that I wrote it.
Wait. Isn't it? shouldn't we? what about?
I think so.
Let's sing The Handbag Song! (You know you want to.)