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you are not there

We are taking the little one for a ride on her new sled. It is bright orange, with a fuzzy black and white seat cover to keep her extra warm. Her tiny hands in tiny gloves hold the sides as tight as she can. I pull her down a path, shouting "woohooo" and then she replies "woohoo". N's turn is next, pulling her more schoolgirl than mother for a few minutes. There are other parents with children on sleds passing us. Their eyes straight forward, faces completely blank they slip by in silence. I flash a smile to them, and they do not even look at me. I am not there, just another tree leaning towards the stream that runs below.

There are ducks still, flapping around the brackish water and we throw pieces of stale bread to them. I start to think, not about the complete absence of smiles in this culture. I stopped asking about that long ago, told over and again that smiles are reserved for home, behind closed doors. But I wonder, for the children -  these wiggling bu…

окна (window)



Comments

Mely said…
For a moment, I was there.
You are quite an artist, no doubt about it!
Love the music, too.

Happy Valentine!!
Rabbit blogger said…
thanks for all of the comments. this took a number of days to produce, as always - a labor of love fit between the daily struggles. a friend and reader asked me if i would ever make a filmic version of the blog, and this is what came out. i may post the parallel story and text for this one, next monday.
1:12 - 1:28 bit is totally awesome, my favorite! Especially the lady that appears - she looks somehow broken to me, really cool.
S Sommer said…
Marco, did you compose and play the music? I love it all. See some new aspect with each viewing. Fascinating.

SS
Rabbit blogger said…
yes, i did write the music - the rule in my studio is to do everything in 1 take. there is a ghost of a harmonica i play in there as well. got to try to keep things restrained....

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