where art lives

today I was sitting under the few full-grown trees on the downtown pedestrian mall while Annie worked from her laptop. The book I had brought to read was less enticing than the dense, summer activity around me.
so I sat and watched
and I began to notice
the art in everything

An old man set himself on the ground against a building, leaving his guitar case open at his feet. He strummed his guitar gently...almost inaudibly, then began to sing with a voice that started as a yell and sweltered into the soulful ring of pure southern gospel.
art

Then, a moment after his rich song had begun, a young man with a traveler's backpack weighing slightly down on his youthful stride and a camera hanging around his neck, knelt down at the old man's side and began to take pictures. He squinted through his lens as the old man sang on. I could only imagine what he saw.
It was the art of observation.

At some point, a white-haired tourist with high socks and white shoes summoned the young man to his feet and I watched as she talked with him. From my little observation dock a few feet away I tried to read their gestures. The young man explained his pack and his camera, and, I imagined to myself, the the jar of peanut -butter in the side pocket of his pack as well. The woman listened eagerly, her curiosity indulged.
It was the art of inquisition: of curiosity and conversation.

I watched for awhile longer: the tourist, the photographer, the singer. I had to smile when the old man sang "Lord, I can sing and I can sing on my own. When I sing, I can sing alone," and in a moment of subtle irony a man watching on the side-lines noticed an empty chair and brought it over to the old man for him to sit in. The man who sings alone accepted the chair graciously and I wondered how many others noticed what a team of contributors had made themselves a part of the moment: the song: whether from one side of it or the other.

perhaps no one really sings alone.

And this was my reflection
my art

carrie

i am
very clearly

my father's eager daughter, following closely in his footsteps where e'er his adventurous spirit takes us

my mother's strong-willed daughter; letting my words build and break walls; writing spirited conversations in poetry, letters and journals: shared and unshared just like she did

my sister's head-in-the-clouds little sister; just as oblivious of the judgers and down-lookers of the world one moment as i am accutely aware of them a moment after. Reaching for some level of maturity, but in the end, dedicated to my youth.

my twin sister's loyal twin sister; reveling in a companionship that started before birth; always looking for a way to share; always looking for a way to support, to cooperate, to join.

and aside from those who make me who i am

who am i?
what will i bring with me from my roots when i take flight?


if nothing else i am theirs
here or there

i am theirs

wonder twins!

"wonder twins powers activate!"

I never knew about the "Wonder Twins" from "Superfriends."
Now that I have discovered them, I would just like to say that the "wondertwins" show is an intensely awesome and extremely accurate representation of the behind-the-scenes, day to day, inner workings of twin-hood.
Annie and my twin-ship is EXACTLY like Zan and Jayna's relationship.
I can turn into animals and Annie can turn into water or ice objects.
It's bizarre how similar we are to Zan and Jayna. Maybe we should sue.
and Gleek...um...there's a little of Gleek in both of us.
or maybe our dog hershey is the real-life equivalent of Gleek.

I would also like to add that annie and my capers are much more successful. we would never carry out a failure like the "moal-moat mission."
just sayin
anyway. watch the clip.