Week 12: Happy Detritus

[alycewilson]

This is my entry for LJ Idol: Wheel of Chaos. This week's topic is "happy detritus."

Happy Detritus


A unicorn's horn, a paper claw, a wobbly smile
litter the foyer of our apartment building
along with a snowfield of paper bits:
white printer paper, the same kind
I always gave my son to draw when he
was younger. He never left a blizzard
of cuttings on public steps. But during
the shutdown, we drew
a sidewalk chalk masterpiece
of a Picasso-style cat that mewled
up at us for weeks.

Recently, unseen children
left behind this snowscape, along with
the tools of their trade: safety scissors,
uncapped markers, broken crayons.

I brought out a small cardboard box,
collected the scissors, crayons and markers,
and set them on a ledge, along with
the untouched paper and drawings. Leaving
only the pieces too small to pick up,
the confetti of after-thought.

The mess stayed for days, with whirlwinds
of activity leaving more flurries. Once,
I saw the neighbor boy toss markers
into the cardboard box, an impromptu
carnival game. His concentration
transformed the act from mundane
to important. Which is why I've been

so careful to step around these paper
dreams: to pile them neatly away from
footpaths instead of hurling them
into oblivion. Because I, too,
have been a child. And these trails
of paper led me back to:

* wheelbarrows filled with "witches brew" --
made from sticks and herbs and mud,
stirred and simmered for days

* a plywood fort my brother made --
filled with precious artifacts found
in the woods and a muddy album
unearthed somewhere mysterious

* a living room taken over by Barbies --
each piece of furniture a building, with
clothing and items strewn about as my friend
and I traversed this fantasy land on our knees

* imaginary worlds we built from gossamer,
with the wooden beam under my friend's
back stairs becoming an ice-cream counter,
littered with leaf bowls and acorn toppings

That's why, when the crafter and his buddies
asked me to buy a paper claw for a dollar, I only
requested that they demonstrate it. He placed
the origami digit over his finger and growled.
Well-made, I praised him. I dug out a dollar,
in silent thanks for all the adults
who neatly stepped around
my childhood mess.

While this is not the artwork I found in our apartment entryway, it is a bus drawn by another child about the same age, which I found while taking a walk. You can tell from the clumsy pencil outline, the roof much higher than the seats, and the uneven red and blue covering, plus the three wheels, that this was the product of a first-grade imagineer.

Comments

[legalpad819]

As I read this, there's a pile of white paper shards in my son's room. We went to see a show yesterday and he is a great admirer of one of the lead actors. He made "trading cards" for this musicals that the actor was in, so that he could get them signed after the show.

These scraps of creativity never end- they just get more elaborate!

[alycewilson]

I like that description: white paper shards. Wish I'd thought of it! That is so wonderful that he thought of those "trading cards." I hope he gets them signed and that the actor will appreciate the creativity.

[muchtooarrogant]

I liked this bit:
only the pieces too small to pick up,
the confetti of after-thought.

Ah man, I remember the plywood forts I "tried" to build. I think your brother was a better architect than me though, mine never remained standing for very long. LOL

I've never lived in an apartment building, verses the courtyard ones that all open to the outside. The idea of a shared foyer is interesting, and of course it would become a playground for the building's kids. (grin) I'm just surprised you're able to walk through it at all.

Great piece!

Dan

[alycewilson]

Well, my brother's fort mainly survived because it was on the ground! He first tried to build a treehouse, and for years afterward, there was still a vestigial ladder of boards nailed to the tree.

The shared foyer is kid central once it gets cold, when they'd rather wait there than at the actual bus stop. I believe this recent burst of inside activity came during a gray and rainy week. The main artist in this poem is rather young, and his mom requires him to be close enough for her to call out to him: so in the grassy patch in front of his patio or in the hallway/foyer.

[bleodswean]

Nothing is more cool than found artwork and when it's children??? VERY cool! I love how tender you are to your resident artist. This was lovely, A!

[alycewilson]

Thank you! When KFP and I first walked through this blizzard of creativity, we were picking our way through like cats, with bemused looks on our faces. He read my poem and declared that I made "fair points."

[roina_arwen]

I like how you connect the now vs then aspect, and how art and creativity connects us.

[alycewilson]

Thank you! I swear that every time I spy a kid doing something that gives me pause, I can remember a time when I did something similar. It makes me truly grateful for how accepting the adults around me must have been, to allow us to have those experiences and to use our creativity in all sorts of ways.

[drippedonpaper]

I love how creative kids are. In my childish aging, I now have "rediscovered" those joys, making my junk journals and art journaling in them. Children are wise, to let their imagination float free.

I think it's sweet how respectful you are of their artistic dreams.

[halfshellvenus]

What's funny about that drawing is that the bus looks like a more advanced child drew it than that shaky sun. Which screams 4-5 year-old to me. I remember the early people drawings that always kind of looked like ghouls.

The phrase "paper dreams" really spoke to me. It covers so much of what childhood is about, across multiple uses of paper.

[marjorica]

Beautiful