Good Witches

Glinda the Good Witch rode in a pink bubble. At least when the audience first sees her. "Are you a good witch or a bad witch?" What an odd question. If she were a bad witch she'd probably try to pose as a good witch. Unless, that is, her acts were particularly heinous. Then she wouldn't try to hide the fact that she was bad. She'd brag about it like a Bond super villain. We are the good witches though. I think... at least for the most part. We ascend further into the air. We pass by puffy clouds. Some look like angles. I take a take a chance and decided to talk directly to one. "What's my purpose?" The cloud angel turns it's head slightly, but does not respond. "Did you think it would be that easy?" Olivia asks. "Yes, I did. Where are we going anyways?" I ask. "Who knows?"

Free Fall

We're falling faster than ever. In a matter of seconds we'll hit the sidewalk. This would be a fatal fall for a normal sized person. I can only imagine how deadly the impact would be for someone who is only a few inches tall. We'd splatter on the cold concrete. No one would think anything of it. They'd see our mangled, unrecognizable bodies and assume we were squished insects. I flap my arms, hoping that maybe I'd be able to fly. If just for a moment. No such luck. My life flashes before my eyes. Mostly fragments. Nothing I could discern, or put into words. Olivia appears calm. She is in the swan dive position. I try to yell to her. I want to warn her about our upcoming doom, but because of the speeds we are falling, my voice can't reach her. Soon we will become a Jackson Pollock painting. I cringe, preparing for the worst. Right as we are about to meet our maker, I hear a pop, and we are stopped less than a foot from the ground. I look up to see we are encased in a pink bubble. Olivia winks at me. We gracefully ascend into the air.

Growth Experiment

I grip the edge of the artist's desk tight and dangle in the air. I've been hanging for a few minutes now. It feels reminiscent of gym class. "Just do one pull up." The gym teacher would shout. " I can't! I can't!" I'd cry, kicking my legs, trying my best. No, I am not working on upper body strength. I'm trying to grow taller. We thought if we hang long enough it might stretch our bodies. I understand this most likely won't work, but the animator is fast asleep on the couch. So , right now we are left to our own devices. "Hey, my arms are getting tired." I shout to Olivia. She lies down, carefully pulling me up. Once I am standing, she closely examines me. "Maybe an inch taller." She says. "That's it?!" "I'm afraid so." "What do we do now?" I ask. "I don't have any more ideas." "I don't want to be stuck like this forever." I say, forlorn. Olivia rests her hand on my shoulder. "It won't be bad. Think of all the fun we could have. Like riding a butterfly." Olivia grabs my hand. "You're right." I tell her. " I know I am." Still holding my hand , Olivia runs up the desk, towards the open window. "Where are we going?" I ask. "Out the window." She replies, gleefully. Before I can argue, before I can respond , she jumps. We're out of the window, and we're free falling.

Drafty Sudio

We rest comfortably in the crevasses of the animator's hand. It is hard to see much of anything. His fingers are curled inward. A bit of a nuisance,but at least it prevents us from rolling off. A cold draft flows through the apartment. It makes me shiver, which in turn causes me to shake the hand. "Are you cold?" He asks. " A little." I respond. He places us back on the desk and shuts the windows. "I'm sorry , I like the cold air. But it's probably harder for you two as you are much smaller than I." "Don't worry about it." Olivia insists. The animator sits on his chair. "Well, this is my place. It's not much, but it's mine." He tells us. "I like it." Olivia says. The animator quickly glances over his place. "Yeah, it's not bad." He lets out a sigh. "It's a place to put my head." He continues. "And you've got your work." I add. The animator grins. "Yes, my work." "Don't you like it?" Olivia asks. "I do, but I'm merely a background animator. Even after my best work, no one notices, let alone cares." "Don't be so hard on yourself." I say. "I'm not. I'm the one who sets the mood and tone. I'm the one who pours my heart and soul into every detail, but no one cares." He says, despairingly. "I'm sure there are a select few who notice." I tell him. "There are. Even still though, my efforts go largely unnoticed." "Do you want to do something else?" Olivia asks. The animator shakes his head. "No, because even if I didn't have a small, very small fan base, I would still be compelled to do this. " He says with his head down. " I'm sorry, I think I'm just in a dark place this afternoon. " He continues. " I know how to get you out of there." Olivia says. He lifts his head up. "How?" He asks. "You're clever. Figure out a way to get us normal size."

Chaos and Inspiration

The world is so big, especially when you are only 3 inches tall. We stand on an artist's desk. The
steep incline is rough on my ankles, so I decide to sit. "Sorry about the mess." The animator says to us. I take a good look at his small studio apartment. All the dirty windows are cracked open, ushering a draft that scatters the many piles of loose papers. " I like a little mess." I affirm. The animator chuckles to himself. "You're a freak, aren't you?" "Oh yeah." Olivia says, jumping in. "Personally, I find it easier to think when thing's are like this." I tell him. The animator knowingly nods. "I'm a bit like that. When everything is neat and organized, it's like I slow down." "But doesn't it feel better being in a clean room?" Olivia asks. "No doubt. But too clean is not good." He explains. Olivia looks down. " I don't understand, but I want to." The animator opens a drawer and pulls out a partially melted, red candle. "You know what this is?" He asks. "A candle?" Olivia says, unsure of herself. "Today, yes. Tomorrow, who knows?" He says. "I don't follow." Olivia admits. "Me either." I tell him. The animator takes a deep breath before continuing. "Seemingly it appears to be garbage, but it could trigger all sorts of memories that would inspire me." "But anything could trigger a memory, even a paper clip." I tell him. The animator shakes his head no. " Not always. Sometimes the memories leave the object, and it must be discarded." "Does the candle bring back any memories today?" Olivia asks. "Yes, when I couldn't afford my electricity." The animator holds the candle up to his face. He smiles, then places it back in the drawer. "That will always have memories for me." He says. "Hard times behind you?" I ask. "Those hard times, yes." The animator rolls back in his chair. "But what do you think of my studio?" He asks. "I would like to see more." I say. The animator holds out this hand. "Then jump on."

Stuck in a 2D World

The animator drew a series of lifts and pulleys. All of which were designed with the intention of breaking us out of our blank page prison. However, all of the devices operated strictly on a 2D playing field. Meaning that we could travel left or right, but we could not go forward or backward. Much like an old school Nintendo. "What do we do?" Olivia asks. " "I may have one more trick up my sleeve." The animator says. He turns his back to us. I hear a sharpener. The animator reveals a sharpened pencil to us. "That's your idea?" I question. "Just watch." He insists. Slowly the pencil makes its way to the blank page. The end is like a fine needle. It hits the surface. I can hear the pencil scratching against the paper. The tip snaps off, but the animator keeps going. He pushes with all his might. Miraculously, the pencil breaks through. "Grab on!" He shouts. Olivia and I jump in the air. It's still a few good feet above us. "You need to lower it more." Olivia tells him. He does so, and we're able to grab it without jumping. "Hold on tight." He instructs us as we prepare to be lifted into the animation studio.

Fourth Wall

We are pulled through to the other side of the blue. To something, another reality, another life. I can't see too much of anything. It's as if the sky has a glossy surface that prevents me from seeing. A gigantic face comes into view. Glasses and a receding hairline stretch across the atmosphere. "Greetings." The face says to us. His booming voice vibrates. I feel it in the pit of my stomach. Much like when one sits too close to a firework display. "Sorry." He says in a whisper. "That's ok." I shout in a squeaky, chipmunk - like voice. Hearing my voice, Olivia giggles. "Who are you?" She asks. "I'm an animator." He replies. "Is this like Duck Amuck?" I ask. Olivia turns to me. "Duck Amuck?" She repeats. "It was a Loony Toons cartoon in which Daffy Duck practically leaps from the page." I explain. "Oh yeah. That was the one where the cartoonist was messing with him, right? Making his head into a flower and stuff like that?" She asks. I nod. "It was a classic cartoon, but the basic idea has been around for some time now. Most recently it was used in a Dead Pool comic." He tells us. I point to the animator. "Dead Pool is a rip off of a DC character, Deathstroke." I explain, feeling confident about the wisdom I had shared. The animator groans. "And Thanos is a rip off off Darkseid . What's your point?" I smile. "You're right, everyone in the comic book industry stole from one another." I admit. His eyes light up. "Ok ,here's a fun piece of trivia. Did you know that prior to Quicksilver's intro in the X - Men, there was a similar character in DC by the same name?" "I had heard of that. I think the one for DC had a few more abilities though. " I elaborate. The animator laughs to himself. "It's kinda weird DC made that guy. I mean they already had the Flash. How many characters with superhuman speed did they need?" I start laughing. "I had never thought of that." I snort. Olivia observers us laughing for a moment. " I don't mean to interrupt your nerd time, but who are you? Did you draw us?" She asks. " I wish. You guys seem really interesting. And if I did draw you two , then I could have a discussion with myself about what is more real, The creator or the creation?" He says, excitedly. "So, we just showed up?" Olivia asks. "Yeah. I'm a background animator. I was looking at some pages I had finished, and you guys showed up all the sudden. I thought "hey I should talk to them." "Huh. Is there a way for us to get out of here?" Olivia asks. The animator bites his lip. " I think so. Let me get my ruler. I'll see if I can draw something."

The Hand

Though the winds had settled, the sky was not done with its strange display. Long , thin, grey clouds stretched across the sky. A circle forms at the center of the clouds, allowing us to see light blue on the other side. Through the opening, a giant hand appears. The hand has hairy knuckles. On its wrist is an off brand Rolex. The second hand is not moving, and the glass is cracked. The hand looms in. It wraps its fingers around us. It plucks us off the ground as if we were living dolls. It lifts us high into the air where we ascend above the grey clouds.

1996 Cinematic Gold

Ever see the movie Twister? In case you have not, here is a brief run down of the climatic scene. The two main protagonists find themselves in a partially dilapidated shack, face to face with a deadly, vicious, monstrous tornado. Having witnessed the tornado level the shack, they do the only logical thing. They fasten themselves to a metal pipe with leather straps. Just a few scenes back their college was killed by flying debris. That guy was no where near as close as they were. I mean the tornado was literally above them. Miraculously nothing bad happened to them.They weren't sucked up, nothing hit them. They were unscathed. Helen Hunt even made a few movies after that incident. I share this because up until now , I thought there was no way in hell it could ever happen. I'm glad I was wrong. Granted I doubt we were in the midst of a tornado, but the winds were unusually strong. We floated in the air for a while, wondering our fate. Suddenly the winds started to die. Gently releasing us to the Earth, then traveling far, far away. It was almost like a child throwing a tantrum. A noisy lion in the begining, a quiet, sleepy lamb in the end.

White Knuckles

The wind howls. It picks up, clanking against the chain linked fence. My hair blows in my face. " I don't think this would be an ideal time to skate." Olivia says. Her voice hushed by the wind. " Unless it was at my back." I reply. Garbage is flung through the air. I am pushed forward, nearly losing my balance, causing me to fall off the diving board. "We need shelter." Olivia shouts. There is concession stand with bathrooms. We push forward, struggling just to walk. We make it to the stand. I jiggle to the doorknob. Of course it's locked. It was worth a shot though. We witness the wind growing angrier. Viewing the shingles and tiles whipped into the air. With aboslutely no where to go, I do the only thing I can think of. I grab hold of the door nob with my right hand. Olivia grasps my left hand, digging her nails in deep. Here we are, three white knuckles.

Skateboard Thoughts

Here we are, peering into the empty swimming pool. Grass sprouts up through the cracks and crawls up the walls. I stand at the edge of the diving board. "It would be a great place to skate ." I say. "You skateboard?" Olivia asks. "I don't, but I assume it would be a good place to. Pool looks curved enough." I hop up and down on the board a few times. I'm not going to dive. I just like how the spring feels under my feet. Olivia sees me hopping. She is pale as a ghost. "Don't!" She shouts. "I won't." I assure her. I stop jumping and sit, allowing my feet to dangle. "There's a part of me that always wanted to learn." I tell her. "Why didn't you?" I shake my head. "I don't know. Fear of falling I guess." Olivia walks over to the diving board. She doesn't step foot on it, but she is now at the deep end with me." "You have to fall." She says. I cock my head to her. " I know that now." "Then what's stopping you from learning?" She asks. "No board." I say with a smirk. "But if you had a board right now, would you practice?" I look down into the empty pool. "You think I'm trying to reclaim an ideal adolescence?" I wonder. "No." She responds, without skipping a beat. "You don't think it's juvenile?" "All I know is if you don't decide who you are, someone else will for you." I slowly get up and turn to her. She continues, "You know I don't care. Do what makes you happy."

Teacher?

Growing up, climbing fences wasn't necessary. It was just fun. It was almost a sport. I would race my friends going up the baseball cages. See who could reach the top the quickest. It's been while since I've climbed a fence, but it all comes back to me. I curl my fingers like a claw. I climb like a monkey. I'm so fast that I don't realize Olivia is struggling at the bottom. "I don't think I'm wearing the right shoes for this." She shouts. I slide down to her."How are you so good at this?" She asks. "Years of practice." Olivia rolls her eyes. I instruct her as best I can. I really don't think I'm a great teacher. Things that come natural to me I have a hard time explaining. But Olivia is patient as I attempt to show rather than tell her how to climb. We make it to the other side. Slightly out of breath, but gleaming with the knowledge that we transcended a physical barrier.

The Empty Pool

Something about fences saddens me. The idea of "Don't go here " "Don't look here." We're behind a chain linked fence, gazing upon the empty pool. Not the most ideal thing to look at. Still, I don't like the barricade that holds us back. Keeping us out for reasons such as safety , or simply "just because." At least it's not a fence wrapped around a tree. It sounds sacrilegious, but it happens all too often. "This your childhood pool?" Olivia asks. "Sort of. Because of budget cuts and what not, it was empty most my life. By the time the village got their act together I was older and not interested." "Are we in a memory?" She asks. I take a deep breath. "Not any memory I was part of." I state. "What does that mean?" I point my head in the direction of the tree house village. "Because of that we're either in a meta reality or someone's astral vision." Olivia raises her eyebrow. "What's an astral vision?" I step back from the fence and think for a moment. "You hear of the concept of the universal mind?" I ask. "That all thoughts and ideas are connected?" She says, hesitantly. I nod. "Reality is influenced by how we think. Not just our personal lives, the physical world as well. " "Are you saying we can change the weather?" She suggests. "Absolutely, but you'd have to get many, many people together with the singular thought/ goal in mind to change the weather to their liking. Maybe you could convince a relatively small group, but a mass amount? No , I'm highly doubtful." I finish my speech. Olivia piers up at me with interest despite the skepticism in her eyes. "You don't think it's possible?" I ask. "It's fun to think about, but I don't know." I bite my lip. "Alright. How about this? You know those grey days where you wish it'd rain, but it never does?" "Yeah, what about it?" "When it finally rains, as unpleasant as it is, doesn't it feel better?" Olivia steps back. "You're trying to make me see the connection between raining and the emotional release of crying." She says ,with a "you almost got me " wag of her finger. "When it rains, maybe that is the Earth crying for all the war, pestilence, hardships, and injustices." I suggest. Olivia looks deep into my eyes and witnesses my sincerity. "You're a little crazy, but you could be right." She admits. "Thank you." We continue to gaze into the empty pool, wondering whose imagination we are apart of at this moment.

Coyote

I see Olivia jauntily walking down the path. I wonder if she saw my George of the Jungle routine. Should I put on a brave face, hiding the pain below? Might as well. I'm fine , I don't want to worry her. She nears closer. I sit up and put on an "everything's ok " grin.
"What happened?" She asks me. "That obvious, huh?" "Many things you are, a Shakespearean actor is not one of them." I prop myself up further. "So, what happened?" She asks. "I hit a tree and fell." Olivia stares at me, unflinching. "You gonna say I told you so?" I ask. "Is that what you want me to say?" I scratch my head. "No, but-" "But what?" I sigh. "But you warned me, and I did it anyways." Olivia sits down next to me. "I know.Maybe that's how you have to learn." "Isn't that frustrating?" Olivia rests her hand on my knee. "It often tests my patience, but I try to find the humor in it." She says. I smile. " I guess it was kinda funny." Olivia smiles back. She takes the camera off my shoulder. "It wouldn't have been funny if this broke." She declares. I laugh. "No, seriously, your bones can heal, but how would we repair the magic camera?" I shrug. "There's about four pictures left. You wanna use it?" I suggest. "Not yet. With only four pictures left, we can only use it on the most special of all things. We'll hold on to it though."

Zip Lining

The tree house village is enchanting. It's a utopian castle in the sky, but my sense of wonder and adventure takes over yet again. On the other side of the bridge I spot two zip lines that run all the way down to the path below. I excitedly run to the zip lines. "Wait!" Olivia's concerned cry, halts me before I have a chance to place my hands on the bars. I turn to her. "Yes?" "Do you think this is safe?" She asks. "Safe enough." I attempt to place my hands on the bars again. "Don't you need a harness?" I casually brush off her safety concern. " I don't think so." "But what if you fall?" She pleads. "I'm not gonna fall. I'll hold on tightly." I'm sure deep down I could hear the fear and trembling in her voice, but when the ID takes over, the concept of safe flies out the window. All that is left at that point is fun and games. "There's two. You can go on one too." I say to Olivia, hoping that would cheer her up. Maybe she was actually feeling left out. There is a look of horror upon her face. "I'll take a pass, but you can do that." She says. "You sure?" I ask. "Yeah, you go on that thing. I'll take the path, and I'll meet you down there." At this very moment I can not fathom why she wouldn't want to zip line. It seems like it would fun, but that's her choice. I blow her a kiss and prepare for my ride. With my hands gripped tightly to the bars, I push off the edge of the bridge.

The zip line goes much faster than I had anticipated. For some reason I thought it would be a leisurely ride. It is anything but. I hang on for dear life as I pick up momentum. Branches slap me in the face. I try to put my legs out to slow down. It is not much use. I smack into an tree, causing me to become disoriented and fall. Luckily, it was only a few feet above the ground at that point. However, it hurt like hell, and if I were a cartoon character, I'd probably have little birds circling around my head.

On the Bridge

After spending some time in the flower shop, sniffing just about every single flower, we went to the bridge. The one I had tried to photograph previously. It's windy today. Much windier than the last time I ventured to this spot. We practically have to hold on for dear life as the bridge sways back and forth. My heart pounds. In a way it's a good feeling, let's you know you're alive. "How long have you been here?" I ask. "We just got here." Olivia shouts over the heavy winds. "I mean in the tree house village." Olivia smiles. "Not long. I knew you'd figure out a way to bring me here." "So you hadn't been here all along?" "Of course not, but what fun is it unless I can mess with your head?" I shake my head and marvel and the earth below me. It's a breathtaking view, and a deadly drop. "I wanted to take a picture of this, but I couldn't get it right." I explain. "That's sweet. I'm here now though. You don't need to take a picture." I wrap my left arm around her, holding tight to the bridge with my right hand. "What do you want to do now?" I ask. "I just want to enjoy this right now."

We're All Here

With a mighty flash of yellow and orange, the image of Olivia in the sky disappears. I rub my weary eyes and look away. "Was that it?" The manager asks me. I shrug. " I guess." "It seems anti climactic to me. " She responds. While I agree with her statement, I don't know what she was expecting. I don't know what I was expecting either. I'm not even sure if it will work. I practically put all my eggs in one basket on this shot. "Now what?" The cashier asks. I look down at the impulse items. I snatch a pack of Bubblicious gum. "Now I buy this." I say. She rigs me up. Mid transaction I am distracted by the front door creaking open. I crane my head and view Olivia cheerily walking in. She stops at each flower I took a picture of and smells them. Olivia piers up from her flower and sees me by the checkout desk. She runs over to me, throwing her arms out. "There you are!" She says in excitement. "You knew I was here." I tell her. Olivia squints at me with a sideways look. "Did I?" It is with that question that I have no idea whether she was clueless about my whereabouts or if she was playing me. She snaps me out of my questioning mode. "Ready to explore?" Sure, why not. What does it matter how go she got here. She's here now and that's that.

Picture Me

Orange and yellow spots hypnotize me. Before I have the slight chance to move, Olivia instructs me to stay absolutely still. One wouldn't think it would be a difficult task. However, the natural reaction is to look away. As hard as it may be, I remain perfectly still. My unblinking eyes watering. "I see you! Don't look away yet!" She shouts. I won't, but I really want to scratch my nose. Why is it your nose only itches at the most unfortunate moments? "Slowly raise your right hand." She instructs. I do so and I can hear her squeal with delight. "You just moved on the picture. Can you see me?" She asks. " No, I can't see anything." "Blink and focus your eyes." I do. Never thought it would feel so good to blink. At first I don't see much. It's like looking through a cloud or a camera with Vaseline on the lens. I focus harder. I can see Olivia looking down on me. A giant in the sky. "Whoa, do I look like Mike T.V.?" I ask in awe. " No because that would make me your mother and that's disturbing." "You could be Willy Wonka. He was also in that scene." Olivia thinks for a moment. " I could be Willy Wonka." "You'd make a damn good Willy Wonka." Olivia smiles. "Now, put out your hand and ask the manager for the camera." I do so without making any eye contact. She places it in my hand. "Good, now take a picture of me." I let out a deep breath, feeling wonderful that this problem is over. I aim the camera high in the sky and prepare to shoot.

Manager's Assistance

When questions about the mysterious of life surface, who better to ask than the cashier at the flower shop? The teen aged girl looks dwarfed behind the checkout desk. You can barely see her because of all the bouquets. I notice some oddly placed impulse items. Colorful candy and bubble gum. I guess it makes sense. Little children coming in the flower shop with a parent." May I help you?" The teen age cashier asks. I look up from the display of candy. "Yeah, what do you know about teleportation?" I ask. "Excuse me?" She stares at me like a deer in headlights. "Teleportation, like Nightcrawler?" "Who?" "Nightcrawler? From the X - Men?" She looks somewhat scared. This bit of trivia is beyond her. " I never read the X - Men." She confesses. "He was also in one of the movies." She shakes her head. "Never saw the movies either." "That's ok, what do you know about teleportation?" "I don't know what that is." "Sure you do. It's traveling from one destination to another in a split second." She raises an eyebrow. "That's not possible." She responds. "It is. I don't know how to control it though." The cashier yells to her manager. "Susan!" The manager rushes in from the back of the store. "What's the problem?" She asks. "This guy is being weird." She tells her. The manager looks at me. "Do I have to ask you to leave?" "No, I just wanted to know more about teleportation." The manager glares at me. "See, I told you he was being weird." The cashier chimes in. The manager hushes her. "Hold on, I want to hear what he has to say." She gives me the "proceed " look. "I was with my girlfriend in New York...literally a second later I'm here. Right now I'm trying to figure out how to bring her here." "Pay for her plane ticket." The manager says, bluntly. "You don't believe me, do you?" "No." "This will change your mind." I say as I take a picture of the manager. She rubs her eyes. "Why?" She asks. My phone buzzes. I set it to speaker and crank the volume. "Baby, who is that?" Olivia asks from too far away. "That's the manager of the flower shop. She didn't believe me about my teleportation travels. I think she does now." I explain. "I do. I've never seen anything like this." She confirms. " I don't suppose they have any ideas, do they?" Olivia asks. The manager replies no. The cashier shakes her head. "How many pictures do you have left?"Olivia asks. "Four." I reply. "Ok, I may have an idea. You're gonna give your camera to the manager, but stay on the phone." I hand the manager my camera. "Now what?" "Look straight ahead. She's gonna take your picture."

Selfie

I have in my possession a magic camera. It automatically transfers any picture I take to Olivia. You say to yourself, that doesn't sound amazing. What if I told you that it's not digital, and that I have no idea where Olivia is. Yet, some how within moments of me taking a picture, she receives the image. It is a strange, fascinating phenomena. Still, I want more. She's there and I'm here. I have no idea how to bring here nor go there. The best thing I can do is send her a picture of myself. I doubt I'll physically transport. Most likely, she'll get a paper copy of my image, but then again I haven't tried it. I extend my arm and prepare for a selfie. I take the shot. The flash nearly blinds me. I see blue and orange dots everywhere. My phone buzzes. "Hello." I respond. "Hey, why are you making a weird face in this picture?" Olivia asks. "Oh, I forgot to take the flash off." I hear giggling on the other end. " I don't suppose you have any ideas, do you?" I ask. "Can't say I do. How many pictures do you have left?" "5." "That's not a lot." She says. "No, it is not." "Hmm, well you'll figure it out." Olivia hangs up the phone.

Flower Shop

It's beyond me why I chose to take a picture of a closed screen door. One thing I know for sure, it's time to stop letting doors and other roadblocks get in my way. I'll start with this screen door. I pull the door open. It creeks and there is a wind chime on the other side. A good sign if you ask me. It's a very welcoming feeling. Inside looks like a garden. There is a an array of flowers. Flowers of every size, shape and color. Tulips, roses, carnations, you name it. There are so many flowers that I almost can't see the teenage girl and her manager behind the counter. I over hear bits and pieces of their conversation. The girl is anxious about her her upcoming ACT tests. Her manager feels old because she remembers taking that test in the early 2,000's. My cell phone buzzes. Curious, I answer. "Why did you send me a picture of a closed screen door?" A puzzled Olivia asks me. "I'm not sure myself." I respond. "It's not a bad picture, just an odd subject matter. Where are you, anyways?" She asks. "I'm in a flower shop in a tree." "Wait? Why didn't you take a picture of a flower?" "I just got here. Hold on, how did you get that picture, I didn't use a digital camera?" There is a slight pause. "Beats me, but send me a picture of some flowers." She requests.
I am in a room full of beautiful flowers and I have 11 pictures left on my magic camera. I take five good shots of orchids, lilies, hydrangeas, marigolds, and sunflowers. Olivia calls me back with glee. "Baby, they're beautiful. I want to be with you." "I could take a picture of myself, but then I'd end back at the museum." I say. " How do I get there?" Olivia asks. "I don't know." "How did you get there?" "I don't know." "But you're there." She says, confused. "That I am. I wish I could understand the mechanics of metaphysical reality jumping better, but I'll figure out how I can get you here."

Take a Picture

Art to me is anything evokes an emotional response from the viewer. Something that makes them think. That being said, I'm transfixed and transported. I'm peering at a painting of children and adults playing in a city pool. My periphery blurs and fades. My surroundings literally change. I am no longer in a museum, but rather my childhood swimming pool. A dry , desolate place until my twenty first year of life. Though it's a blazing summer day, it remains empty. I can see the black tile crosses near the deep end. My eyes want to stay, but my feet have something else in mind. They lead me on a path. It twists around an old oak tree. The tree is much wider and greener than I had realized. I walk high into the air. To a tree house village. I'm so high above the ground that everything below seems like a model town. It's a marvelous sight. The only thing missing is Olivia. I dial her on my cell. It goes straight to voicemail. That's a shame. I really wish she were here, but I notice I have a camera strapped to my side. If she can't be here, at least I can snap a picture for her. What should I take a picture of? There are some people walking around. That's never been my thing. Don't get me wrong, some people are photogenic and their faces reveal interesting stories. It's just personally never been what I wanted to focus on. Plus it seems odd handing her a photo of a random passer by. So, I'm going with inanimate objects. They can't be too stylistically done because that would be off putting. Where to start? The bridge connecting my tree house with the adjacent one? Yes, that will work. The bridge is reminiscent of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Except there are no man eating crocodiles beneath me, and no one trying to rip out my heart behind me. It's safe. Or at least as safe as this type of bridge could be. I will say, my perfectionism rushes in at the worst possible moments. I start out at the middle of the bridge, thinking it is the best spot. The bridge sways, causing my hands to tremble. I relocate at the other end. There are some more problems. Branches block my shot. On my 8mm camera, I have approximately twelve pictures left. I could haphazardly take shots, but I want each and every one to be gold. Feeling overwhelmed by my apparent inadequacy to take a decent picture, I give up. Wanting a change of scenery, I start to make my way to the tree house flower shop. It's there that I find my Citizen Kane, my perfect picture. I plant my feet firmly on the ground, adjust the focus, and take the shot. The flash goes off. I lower the camera. To my amazement I just took a picture of a closed screen door.

The Met

If I could travel back in time and say one thing to my younger self it would be that history is fascinating . Sure there had been less than enthusiastic instructors. I'd see their eyes darting across the room, watching the second hand. Waiting for the bell to ring as their dull, monotone voice marched on. That being said, once you get past the gatekeepers of knowledge you move into a wonderous world. I'm appreciating that much more these days. There is an arrogance of youth. You want to be your own person. Make something new, be something new. All the while rejecting everything old in the process. Ironically, the old is what sparks the new. Try and tell me that though. I toiled away night and day, trying harder and harder to be the most original. I became increasingly frustrated at the slightest reference or homage to something else. In a way everything has been done. However, originality may jump from how the story is presented. Adapt and survive. Move with the times. My brain wanders in far directions often. When there are scarce people around, it feels more comfortable to do so. We're at the Met right now. Not many art lookers in the museum today. Negative temperatures and a weekday, go figure. Hey, there's no rush. We can take our time. No one is crowding the spaces, making us claustrophobic. Mr. Bones is in the museum somewhere. I'm not sure if I'd like to visit him. He'd be in an exhibit, so it's unlikely he'd converse with us. I am positive he's loving his celebrity status, and if he wanted out he would find a way. It's up in the air. I'll see what I see. If I'm led to Mr. Bones, great, but if not, that's ok too.