Play!

I'm feeling a little weird tonight, like someone spiked Mrs. Borrayo's date bars with a heaping helping of nostalgia with a dash of WTF.
I was going through pictures of my childhood today- they are currently sitting out on our dining room table crying out for some attention. It seems to me that I was always outside and always getting into something. I remember a lot of my childhood, at least up until we moved. It's strange to me that I have less active memories of the past ten years of my life than I do some of my childhood. I remember running around at the park until I was completely covered in sweat and dirt but I still didn't want to go home. I remember the one time my cousins and I were playing tag in our backyard and I slipped because it had been raining and did my first full split. I remember the time I faked being hurt in the pool so when my mom went to help me up I pulled her in. It's weird, even though I couldn't put it into words I knew I had it good. My days then were active and filthy- the greatest fashion accessories to my oversized t-shirts were the grass stains on my pants. I miss that. I miss running around with my friends not to stay in shape or work my glutes but rather because we just wanted to play.
That seems to be a consistent theme in my life- I just want to play. I just want to play my horn. I just want to play knock-out until I literally can't breathe anymore. When you try to bring me inside, bathe me, and make me look real nice I just want to say "No" and continue running around. Maybe I'll sleep out here. It really doesn't matter. Cause I just want to fucking PLAY.

So in honor of exhuberant mood I now find myself in, I give you Play! by Carl Holmquist. Props to Matt Dockendorf to exposing me to this piece. I am mucho grateful.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GX5Qe3QRQQw

Go be mischievous!