day 283: my overflow

I am a spilling out of my skin.  I am unconfined, without definite borders.


I can't experience something new without tying it to something old.  Like the time we did an art project in my classroom where we melted crayons, and the smell immediately transported me to Graham Road School.  Mrs. Parks' kindergarten class.  Kevin Black, with his messy blond hair, who liked to gnaw on wrapped crayons like they were chewing tobacco.  Drool running down his chin.

Or how one day I watched from behind as my youngest walked away from me, and I saw my younger brother.  His same gait.  The same swing in his arms.  I was ten again, the big sister.

Sometimes I am the middle, seeing the present but connecting it to the past in my mind.  Or learning of the past and finding a connection to the present.

There are layers under my olive, freckly skin.  There are memories behind my brown eyes.  And I am much more than now.

8 comments

misssrobin | May 28, 2010 at 11:55 PM

This is such a nice way to describe it. I usually just say I'm a mess spilling out all over the place.

Kind of the same, but different in the same ways we are different.

The Crash Test Dummy | May 29, 2010 at 1:53 AM

Oh my goodness. There's Misssrobin with 3 sss's beating me to the punch again.

That was bee-U-tiful!

gigi | May 29, 2010 at 7:25 AM

Thinking along with you.

Jenny | May 29, 2010 at 8:22 AM

I think the same way!

Valerie | May 29, 2010 at 11:32 AM

Love this! The older (ahem) I get, the more I realize the connections in life, tying us to past, present, future...and to each other as well.

Kimberly | May 29, 2010 at 9:02 PM

You are such a poet. I love how you use words to express that beauty behind those eyes of yours.

And I've been enjoying your tweets re: the conference too. A tenuous connection muchly appreciated.

Connie | May 30, 2010 at 12:01 AM

It doesn't take much to be transported back to the past.

Wrapped crayons and chewing tobacco, not sure which is more disgusting.

Luann | May 30, 2010 at 6:52 AM

BEAUTIFULLY written.