The teeter-tooter, a splintered board creaking up and down: a shallow muddy puddle at each end, innocent muddy children working the ups and the downs.

And so our memories.

One end of memory, “verifiable recollection” goes up as down into the mud hollow goes “useful contrivance as truth”; holding tight with bended knees.  As the “useful contrivance” pushes upward there is a brief neutral moment before “verifiable” fact bottoms into its’ muddy hollow.  For a moment play, poetry and tricks of memory are elevated.

Obviously our reunion is about memories, all coming here have elevated their memories to the factual “verifiable” type.

We invited historical enfants terrible artists, thinking childlike creative ideas will occur with a possible tantrum.  What we have so far is colicky adult expletive spewing infant childish types producing noise.  Some actually brought actual children into this milieu popping with bombs; and so the wee tots learn their culture.   We did not encourage this.  The tent, still awaiting erection, has no means of absolutely protecting youthful innocence.  Explosions, even cultural bombshells, we know to be disturbing to children.

 

Time has been as limited as the budget; and so exhibits concerning penetrating philosophies, politics, and new paradigm breakthroughs were discussed, and not children.  Empowered thought was always discussed in the planning.  But limiting radicality was dismissed, given the memories of censorship.  Yet there was a faint working idea that children may be harmed.

Luckily Yorick exists, it appears that only a medieval jester would remember that sanctuary matters.  So a skeleton unaffected by modernism cordoned off access to the broad prairie sky, some grass and clover, toads, mud, sticks and balls, and bits of colorful refuse.

And so the near-naked savage offspring of anarchists parade  wet noses, bloody knees, and many varieties of tears; but balls get kicked and giggles and laughs animate the children’s area.  As you might guess their memories will also include errant bombs with the fun and games.

We will try edging back to Eden…next Saturday