"Leaf" by Jana

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June 29, 2012

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Maybe you mistake,
Metaphor for love.
We are not narratives, but
Love lives the stories.

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Forty Stitches and Beautiful

At four years old, I cut my face open on a drainpipe in the backyard at my friend's birthday party. We were chasing around the yard playing tag when I tripped and fell against the side of the house. I don't remember much; only a few snapshots. I remember not getting up immediately after I had fallen down and that was strange--I just laid there. Mercifully, the shock leaves no memory of the pain. Next, I have two still-photo memories of my friends; one of concerned little faces as one girl tentatively asked "Jana, are you ok?" and one of them with terrified faces as I rolled over to face them and they screamed and ran to get the mothers. Then, a very clear memory of being held tightly by my friend's mother, with an ice pack on my face. She sat in a wicker-seated oak rocking chair--one of those with the big, round rockers that were so dangerous for your toes as a kid. She held me, prayed loudly and vociferously, and rocked manically until my parents got there. I

Project: Britt and Dan's Guestbook

A heavy-hearted post yesterday, but I am happy to share one of my happier moments today. A friend from work, Britt, asked me early last summer if I would create a guestbook for her wedding in September. We tossed around ideas for a few weeks. She liked the thumbprint idea, but wanted something a little more original. We decided to go with an UP-style balloon cloud, but Britt wanted a golf cart to anchor it, since she and Dan both like golf...well, Dan likes TO golf, and Britt enjoys a good book from the seat of the golf cart on a sunny day. I went to work, and, sad to say, failed to photograph much of my process. My plan was to use a linoleum block stamp for the golf cart, so I spent a lot of my time designing a clean, print-friendly version (did you know there are not that many vintage-y golf cart designs out there? Apparently affording a golf cart is a relatively recent phenomenon.). Dan also is a big fan of BMW's, so I eventually sketched up a wobbly design hybrid inco

What not to write

Has anyone ever told you not to write? That you are toxic, too honest, too much? And have you, like me, listened? And slowed, stopped, sealing off the cave of your so-called poison-pen, forgetting the source that rises as tides change, slips around the stone seals daily washes, refreshes, heals.

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