Sniff?

I'm starting a new line of scented markers. The twist is that they'll be scented like terrible things. No more of this rainbows and chocolate nonsense. It will be a fearsome Bernie Botts every flavored beans array of colors. Yellow will smell like stale urine. Green will aerate the pungent odor of puke.

Black? It will smell like death.

They're marketed to a bitter crowd - your everyday utensil for composing hate mail. So when the celebrity who broke your heart, or the politician who broke his promises opens up the envelope, they'll be greeted by the stank odor of your hatred.

I'll sell it in a package with a magazine that is completely full of letters, A-Z. All in miscellaneous fonts, colors and sizes. You won't have to rummage through to cut out letters for your secret threats. There will be a  index in the back as well, with common phrases all spelled out:

"Go jump off a bridge"

"You're ugly"

"Watch your back"

and

"I hope you pickle yourself in grueling self-loathing for the rest of your life - you don't deserve to be a cucumber any longer"

Words are powerful. Hate deserves to be expressed.

Buy our markers.

The Birds

I wonder what you see, little sparrows. I wonder what you see as you look down on me, looking right back up at you. Because I see black silhouettes spinning across the azure sky. It's so bright blue and you are so vibrantly.... Alive.

Do you look down on us? Spinning across this green field as we practice our drills? Do you hear us and the music that I'm playing just for you? The music that I am playing just for this day and how beautiful I see that it will be?

And do I look, to you, like I am, perhaps alive?

Steak and Shake

We went to Steak and Shake Saturday evening. There's something about the stark contrast of the shiny white and black tiles with the red light up letters that makes me feel so retro. We sat in our booths and everyone ate milkshakes as tall as their faces; like they'd ever heard of a calorie count before. Carefree. Reckless. Ice cream and maraschino cherries.

Saturday nights are like that. Sickly sweet.

Sophie and I sat at the long counter on the stools that swivel. And we just spun and spun and spun until we were all spun out.

"Hey soph, do you want to lend me a quarter?" I ask, gesturing to the line of gumball-esque machines next to the window. I feel like there should be a jukebox. But there isn't, so we just stumble over - world all topsy turvy from our twirling. We slide our quarters in and turn the knob.

It's surprisingly satisfying, the quick turn of the wrist and hearing the click, click, click as your candy comes down. I got a grand total of five Spree chews. Each one a different color. And in the moment in seemed like the most beautiful happenstance in the world.

I ate them one by one, in rainbow order. And I let the melting of the corn syrup on my tongue be my music for just that little while. 

Brother

When the hail comes down, it comes down with a vengeance - all the cutting force of a Nebraskan summer behind it. But a brother is someone who takes the brunt of the storm. Thin lean muscles, pull me up beside them. Close. And your back must hurt like hell. 

These Miles

These miles burn inside my thighs for days. When you see me, you might be deceived into thinking that I am so small - yourself a giant in comparison. But I have a secret – I am the sky open wide, wind rushing by with millions of miles on my skin.

To Kira

Toothpaste is foaming in your little mouth,
and the laughter sticks like toothpaste to the edge of our lips, just on the verge of dribbling.
It's a tooth-brushing party.

You'll be sleeping soon, little child,
but I don't want you ever to wash that laughter off your face.

The Maintenance Man

The Maintenance man taught me the power of questions.

My very wise brothers have always told me "The mark of an interesting person is that they can find something interesting in any situation."

People are always interesting. And I guarantee you that every man, woman or child that you encounter has some fascinating story tucked away in their front pocket -  stories behind their ears and swallowed down inside of them. And sometimes people have a whole load of stories that fill up their boots so heavy that they can barely manage to take a single step forward.

The Maintenance man's story was hidden in the space between his fingertips and a piano, or a saxophone or really any instrument you can imagine (except the harp and didgeridoo).

We had asked "So why is your nick name keys?"

And he had replied "Oh, I just like messing around on the piano. But I get bored after the first two pages of a song, so I can only play introductions...."

And it wasn't until two miles later down the trail we were pruning that we came across the question "So how did you start working here? Where are you going to college?"

Turns out this 'Maintenance Man' is an incredible musician. He auditioned and was accepted into Julliard school of Music. Tuition was too high there though. Consequentially he's been working overtime at the camp weeding, pruning, and repainting to earn tuition. He's re-auditioning next year.

The next day he let us volunteers listen to the orchestra piece he had composed and conducted. It got third in a national composition competition. It was a song of a canoe trip, mimicking the sounds he had gathered from the river on a small tape box recorder. It was astounding. And I spent those ten minutes just listening to music with my whole self and attention. I can't describe how good it feels to do that.

It was beautiful and I was blown away by the mastery it must have taken to write each part for each instrument in an entire orchestra. It's such a work of art.

But the point of this long and convoluted tale is really a wake up call to myself not to take people at face-value. Because each of us has such a wealth of experience and history that we can learn from. We can learn from each other, the stories of life, love and pain that we share. We learn the most from others stories when we sit down and really listen to. Listen to them with our whole selves and  whole attention.

I can't describe how good it feels to do that.