Innocence

So i was cleaning out my bedroom when i came across two finger pupets that i made when i was a child, with my nan.

This was quite a while ago, when i had a finger puppet stage and everything, and i carried it arround everywhere!

I used to make my family sit through hours of my little plays, or even jsut doing them on my own. I had always been a creative child and here was a way for me to get out all of the different stories and ideas going arround in my head.

My nan noticed this and one day she decided that we would make out own ...




Mine and my nan's

 She was an excelent sewer and she did most of the sewing on mine, but she taught me from a young age so i did some and designed it etc. We even used some hair from a clown's wig she had, so that we could get the colours.

She really was amazing ...

And i remember another time, way way WAY back when i was a kid, me and my sisters stayed over her house one night and it was one of my most prized memories because, it seemed so perfect and so innocent, that i can barely recapture any of it.

What i mean by this that, i was at that age where although i remember what happened nearly perfectly, and i could remember how it looked and felt, i cant fully picture it nowdays. If i went to their house (which has barely changed) it just feels ... different.

I've grown up and the innocent and magic of that time and that memoery, is forever trapped there.

I remember painting a bowl of fruit in her kitchen just as the day started to wind to a close and the light was fading. Apples, a bannana, a pear, an orange towards the front. Me and my sisters sat at her table, painting the bowl that was on the end of her kitchen counter.

I remember going to get ready for bed and brushign my teeth. Running down their hallway to their WC, back when their toilet was in a seperate room to their sink ... before the renovation.

I remember sitting about a foot away from the television set as we all sat down and watched Stars in their Eyes. Me, then Ariel, then Ursula, nan and grandad say  against the other side of the living room, watching us just as much as the program. I dont remember who sang or who they sang as, that part is forever lost, i just remember being so happy there, so innocent, so naive.

Then we would rush arround the place trying to not go to bed, pretending we wern't tired, before finnally being put to bed in her dining room on the floor. My sisters next to the stairs and me next to the raidiator, talking into the late-night. Kitchen light being left on to permiate the darkness, guiding us.

You see, these times in our lives change. Sure the memories stay the same, some lost and some imortalised, but as you grow older, as you loose your innocence, you are left hollow. Full of these memories that you can picture perfectly and remember how they feel, but at a loss as to why the present feels so completely different.

The magic of the world leaves you ...