#anaeo

The Qualities of Heroes

The Girl & Her Dog

The Fallen Starchild

The crew that doesn’t currently have a name... but they do all have nick-names!

From left to right:

Trouble (Trundle), Ranger Rick (Lureen), Ivy (Iveelios), Arianna Grande (Aryona), Art (Artanis)

lemme tell you about the time i inadvertently fooled my dad into thinking our house was built on a native american camp site.

my childhood home was semi in the country. my sister’s strong love of horses meant that my parents had indulged in clearing out the swampy/bog-like land around us to accommodate the lively quadrupeds. this meant lots of space for my and my best brother play during the summer. 

after lots of spring rain, a tiny gully had begun to form in one of the pastures. my brother and i took advantage of the prime real-estate and made it into our favorite play spot. we would occasionally build a dam in the gully to collect water or refine the local dirt to make pottery.

see, our property consisted of mainly clay. lots of it. refining dirt or, rather, finding clay wasn’t too difficult. it was everywhere. we would collect the really fine silt from the gully, utilize the water we’d dammed up, craft little bowls and cups, and cover them in fine dirt to keep them from cracking in the sun while drying. 

we did this a lot. like. a lot, alot. sometimes we’d refine the bowls and make them smoother. sometimes we’d remake them because they cracked or didn’t turn out well. but the point is we’d spend days in the summer making little clay pots like we were ancient egyptians or something. 

one day, later in the summer, our dad came in from doing, idk, something with the pastures. he told us he’d found something super cool while working on the fence-line and that we needed to come check it out. low and behold, we come to behind our house to find all of our little pots and cups lined up against the building.

my dad told us how he’d found them in the dirt and that they might be from people who’d lived here years and years ago. pure and innocent, we smiled and told him how we’d been the ones to make it all. he was flabbergasted. they looked super old and he’d found them buried in the dirt. 

he laughed with us at his mistake and told us he was proud of our pottery skills. we later returned the pieces to our spot in the pasture where by now they’ve probably gone and turned to dust. but, surprise, surprise, the picture above is of one of my childhood bowls that my mother recently discovered.

The Father & The Daughter