The first is, clean, hard, glaring white. Standing on three legs in the center of the room, it glistens in the light, proud of its place at center stage. It wants the attention of all. If i try to ignore it, it screams at me to look at it. It grabs me and drags me into its center and holds me there. It does not frighten me, i like to pretend it isn’t there. I giggle as i turn my back to it and wrap my arms around myself trying in vain to resist it’s call and not turn around. But it always wins, i always turn around. It’s magic you see, and it cheats.

If i close my eyes, i can almost see the negative of it still imprinted on my eyelids.

The other is big but not as large as the first. It stands on four legs. It is black and fuzzy and warm. It leans against the wall in the corner, patiently waiting for someone to fetch it. I find that i smile every time i see it and long to give it a hug. Its fuzziness seems to attract me as well as all the dust it can possibly grab on to. In my mind it is like a puppy, sitting and watching til someone scratches its ears and then filled with joy it wags its tail. “Course, it doesn’t have a tail to wag, but i can feel how happ

So now my mission in life is to write the 1000 words that every picture is worth; to put in the written word the fiery passion of a sunset or the tart and bitingly sweet scent of an orange. I want to be able to squeeze emotion in between those lines and cause those lines to burst. I need to be able to write my heart.

Then i discovered adjectives. They were sparkling fairies in my head. Bright and shiny and all the colors of the rainbow. I would start thinking about adjectives and just giggle out loud. There were funny ones, and sad ones, and all the kinds in-between.

Well, i was very excited to go to the store with momma and buy the paper. I wasn’t real sure what a pencil was but if i could use it to make magic stories then i was sure i was going to like it.

Every week my momma would go to work and i would stay with my nannie. Granddaddy would get home before momma came to pick me up and i would pester him for a story. Finally he said i was old enough to tell him stories. I told him very matter of factly that i could not tell him stories with out a storyboard, thinking this was a good way to get me one of my very own. My granddaddy was a little smarter than me though an’ the next day he came home with a box of colors and a roll of butcher paper.

I would stand in front of him proudly. reading him my story. The paper would move through my hands as i went like a waterfall of picture words. The pictures made such beautiful words that i never wanted to stop.

Then she tells us to make this A on our paper, so i did. But she didn’ like it. She said it had to stay between this line and that line and that this line had to go on that line and that these lines had to be straight but not but not straight up and down, they had to be straight caddycornered. I thought she was goofy.

Some topics in this essay:
Dr Denton, Maybe Bible, , Westminster Abbey, learned write, line line, pieces stuck, line line line, remember storyboards, straight straight, story stand, tell stories, able write, magic stories, paper colors,