Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Use this as a prompt:

Justin took this photo to prove that light came into the bedroom window.

When I saw it, it stirred all kinds of things in my heart. I wanted to know if it did the same thing for you. So, here is your chance to test out your creative writing skills, or just tell me about a memory. What does this picture make you think of, or what story does it tell?

After I give you some time to respond, I will write what I thought.

Does that sound like fun? You should do it!


Mindy said...

Ok, here's my writing assignment from you.
Light comes in through many windows
But Light that enters us
Leaves behind legacies of love
Like you and the quilt your grandparents made.

OK, so it's more of like a thought, but I think it's true.

The Jones :) said...

Alright...I've been thinking about this...and I'm not sure...it'll probably sound stupid, but oh well!!

My thoughts...

We all have days when we're down...when the world and life seem SOO dark...and some way, Heavenly Father knows how we're feeling. When we least expect it, a little glimmer of "hope" or "light" shines though. We keep on truckin' along, and things slowly get better!! Even when we can't see what's coming, there is light at the end of the tunnel...and we can get there!!!

How's that?? Stupid??
Love ya :)

breckster said...

You had the advantage of knowing who made the quilt, and that is a great example of what I was hoping for.

The Jones:
Not stupid, it's wonderful!

Erika Hill said...

If this were my picture and I were titling it, it would be called, "Wings to Fly, Nest to Live." For me, it represents a desire to expand who we are while still clinging to the traditions we hold dear. There are times when we feel like we can't do both, like we need to either choose the window or the quilt, but I love that they are very happily sharing the same space here.

If we only focus on the window, and the opportunities that it affords us for additional light and knowledge and experiences-- if we let it draw us completely outward-- then we miss out on the beauty and complexity that the quilt offers us. Yet, if we ignore the fact that light is pouring in from the window, choosing instead to only cling to the familiar, we shut ourselves off to something wonderful.

I feel like this is getting rambly, or maybe redundant. I guess the point is this: I'm at this strange point in my life where I'm grown up and not grown up at all. Sometimes I look back on the Erika of a few years ago, and I'm glad to be rid of her. Sometimes I look at where I'm going now, and all I want to do is go back to childhood and eschew the responsibility that comes with growing wings. There can be balance between these two impulses; we've just got to find it.