first day back and my drawings
20 sentences from book
If you are sad ask yourself why you are sad.
When a whale dies, it falls down through the ocean slowly, over the course of a day. All the other fish see it fall, like a giant statue, like a building, but slowly, slowly.
Look at the sky: that is for you.
Look at each persons face as you pass on the street: those faces are for you.
The interesting thing about positive, it never mentions HIV.
A dot so small that isn’t male or female or young or old; it is just smiling.
The dream began as it always dose, in a low-ceilinged land where everyone is forced to crawl
around on hands and knees… living horizontally.
Ask my breasts, my forty-six-year-old breasts.
Life is just this way, broken, and I am crazy to hope for something else
I was thinking of eagles humping each other and then I remembered they don’t hump they lay eggs.
Humans make their own worlds in the small area in front of their face
Why do you think we are the only animals that kiss?
Because the area in front of our faces in our most intimate zone. This is why humans are the only romantic animals.
I washed my hands as if they were children, cradling one and then the other.
It described a man with eyes the size of clocks.
Everyone knows that if you paint a human being entirely with house paint he will live, as long as you don’t paint the bottom of his feet. It only takes only a little thing like this to kill a person.
I drew pictures of it on my binder, a smudge in a heart. A smudge and me, interconnecting hearts. Me and the smudge and a half human/half smudge baby.
I imagined her flying around the world, taking photographs of all the birds, them flocking around her, hem teaching her to fly, her flying through the air on her back, totally unafraid.
Don’t wait to be sure. Move, move, move.
The neighbours trim their bushes into ridiculous animal shapes.
People love to make life harder than it has to be.
A car went by outside, and we watched blocks of light slide across the ceiling.
It was bloodier than even blood, like sick blood, animal blood, the blood racist people think beats inside people of other races: blood that shouldn’t touch my own. But the next moment it was just jam, and he laughed and rubbed the kitchen towel on her cheek. Her clean cheek. Her port-wine stain.
She rubbed her finger around its edges. It came as high as her right eye, over to the edge of her right nostril, across her whole cheek to the ear, ending at her jawbone. In purplish-red
I gazed at her shuteyes with their majestic lashes, and good intention of a nose.
They were sparkling with the old love, the greatest love of my lifetime. And they were triumphant.
we choose a part of our book to illustrate 4 different ways in a book form:
i took a section from the short story called 'The Moves'....
heres i clip of youtube where July is telling the story...
2. the swim team:
6. the person