I don’t know much about children, but at the same time they intimidate the crap out of me. I’m standing in a store, let’s just say I’m buying a snickers bar and the lady next to me’s child is eyeing me from floor to ceiling. This little girl probably has a bright pink tutu on that I probably think is rad. Which brings me to this thought: children really know how to stare into your soul. You could call it art. They look at all the little trinkets hanging off of your body; that thing in your hair, your puffy skirt and sparkle shoes. They stare, and you know exactly what they’re thinking. They have no censorship, they say what they want and speak how they feel. They look at you; they actually look into your eyes. Remember eye contact? Well children still believe in it. And if they feel like jumping off of a car, they do it while simultaneously screaming something barbaric. Children are my idols, okay? They’re super cool. And they represent and stand for something that I can’t necessarily have anymore, or at least it was taken away from me-maybe just as my braces came off, or maybe it was when Angela Sosa threw that frozen snickers bar at my head for not saving her the sugar twisted donut. It was my 8th birthday, and it should have been something magical. As you grow, you begin to realize that all birthdays aren’t bulletproof. I still hate this fact. I’m naïve, I know, and I’m okay with that.
Children are straight up. They speak the truth; they bring the good and the bad news. They are imaginative, they make believe and they aren’t afraid of what you think or how you feel. They are inconsiderate, they are rude, but they are awesome about it. You know when you can and can’t count on them to do something. They embrace the silly, they embrace the creature, they embrace the ability to make sound affects, they laugh so hard and so loud, they lack fear and they trust strangers. They have so much hope and faith in everything and in everyone, and they see you for you.
A lot of the time I feel like my biggest competitors are children- is that weird? It feels weird. I’m a bit envious of them, yes. I’ve always been, probably always will, but definitely not in that nasty “I’m a grown woman living through you,” sad way. None of that. This is going to be more like an appreciation. From afar. A feeling like as long as someone can represent all the good that childhood was, I’ll be okay being elderly in a giant fluff chair baking cookies for someone.
It turns out that right now, I’m 21 and a half- not elderly, and I don’t own a fluff chair yet, so if it’s okay with you, I’m going to represent all the good that childhood was while it’s not too late, and in this case, it’s going to start with embracing the piñata. The love I have for the Piñata goes along with my love for hot air balloons and unicorn. Along with my strange fascinations with rollercoaster’s and creatures, He-Man and She-Ra, and with making movies in my head that I forget aren’t real. It’s hard to put everything in my head into words, but I know that every action I make comes from who I am, every artistic decision included. Can I call these decisions an impulse? Can I call it Knowledge? Can I just call it Me? The Piñata, and all these things, play with my memories. Every memory, for me, comes with a feeling attached, or a smell- something so distinct and clear that it brings me back in ways other things can’t.
The times of my childhood and through my growing years were the times when I felt the most connected with myself. These were the times when I felt the most vulnerable, the most honest and the most real. I learn that the more that I know (about the world, about the people I love, and about my surroundings,) the more I get away from that vulnerability and innocence. It is a change that I can feel inside of me and out. If I can’t stay being one thing, or one person- if I can’t stay in a happy place and if I need to move on- then is it okay if I bring something with me to hold? Can that be an image, can it be an object, can it just be a feeling? That is the piñata and the unicorn, and the creature for me, it is a type of relationship; it is a close connection.
We as human beings- in a generalized phrase- feel the need to grow so fast. People want to do everything before the time has come. I don’t know why but it happens and it appears to be normal and natural and a part of life. But in ways, we all miss what we grew past and we go back in little ways. Looking at photographs, or telling stories, I feel, are small gestures of this. Maybe when I reminisce, I reminisce hard. Maybe I just never fully grew past these things. Everything is still in question but regardless, someone has to bring people “back to earth,” as I see it: “back to the times when things were good.” These things make people happy, it awakens some, and maybe acts like a refresh button for others. If I can bring smiles, make things temporarily lighthearted for all, and if I have to do it with glitter and sprinkles, then I’m going to do it all the better.
