when I was 3 years old, my mom started taking me to dance class. we had to wear white tights, a standard-issued baby blue leotard, schweet dull pink ballet slippers and our hair had to be tied back in a bun (this looked pretty awesome with my chop-shop-across-the-forehead-into-the-eyes-80's-bangs). the conformity my teacher was hoping to convey didn't really mesh with me.
the only pictures my mom took/kept from this class are of me being off-task. (E.g. high-kicking when the class was clearly forming their feet into second position. in the photo, the class is also intently listening and watching the movements of our small town prima ballerina. i am looking down - a motion necessary to get the kickline started!) instead of telling me to get in line, my mom took pictures. i treasure that.
most pictures from my childhood are not group shots. i'm not even really sure any of us knew how to take group shots until we started playing sports. mom took "action" shots. forrest smiling after painting our dining room wall. kathryn after she cut her own ponytail off and threw it over the top banister of our stairs. my dad and his shotgun after he blew out our back window and shattered our awesome orange blinds. terri sliding down a dirty mountain with a white jumpsuit on. susan playing in the middle school band.
i never make a fool of myself for the benefit of others' entertainment. i just naturally live outside the box. as my dad says, "you don't march to the beat of a different drummer. you hear a totally different band."
"crazy isn't being broken or swallowing a dark secret...it's you or me...amplified. if you ever told and lie and enjoyed it... if you ever wished you would be a child forever... " - girl interrupted
