FEATHERS
"Every child is born an artist, the question is how to remain an artist as one grows up"
What we think is part of who we are, regardless of what it becomes or what it entails. Thinking is like having a playground in your head, all to yourself, where you dig in the ground and get your hands dirty, where you swing endlessly and watch the sky turn purple, where you slide down a slide with your hands up, to then climb the ladder and go down again. We sometimes look for bugs or put something in our mouth to see how it tastes since nobody is around to see what we are doing. We then frown at our childish curiosity for that didn't taste good, or we smile in approval thinking "that actually wasn't that bad"
More often than not, we end up running around doing all types of maneuvers until we fall on our knees and get them full of scrapes. Many times not having completed anything at all. But regardless of what we all do in our playgrounds, it's where we are free, where nobody is watching, where one is unleashed of his responsibilities to smile and run around like a kid. Product of my mischiefs within my playground are feathers, soft ideas that mesmerize us when they fall from the sky. That's what this section is all about.
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AuthorSome people use feathers to fly. Others use feathers to write. ArchivesCategories |