on thursday, i made monsters. little monsters, all running around , howling and screeching, with fingers gooey from finger paint and little multicolor construction paper bits stuck in their hair and ears. i do art with second graders, on thursdays, and we were monsters, creating monsters, because creating is vital to our very existence.
each one got a piece of the body to make, to shape, to create & then putting them all together we would have our glorious monster, complete even with sound effects, as terrence, one wild little monster, was pulling his cheeks and his lips making wet smacking noises, so i could not even look at him without laughing, afraid he would pull them back over his head, at one point.
jenny's arm was three sizes bigger than tommy's leg, and it seems we ended up with too many heads, so they put one on his butt in case he needed to see behind. there were tentacles and wings and long pointed fingers and one little boy created all kinda confetti to speckle him with, if only art had not been cut to 25 minutes due to budgetary constraints and potholes needing filling in the governor's gated private subdivision.
then there was one, the boy that couldn't, that sat all quiet, back straight upright, prim and proper, but nothing he made, just sat and so i asked and he said, "i am not allowed to make a mess." no finger paints, never smashed a mud pie between his fingers, i was astounded. he had to stay clean and neat, as a hospital cornered sheet. i could just see him sitting in the middle of a room, afraid to breathe.
i wanted to grab him right there and a big box of broken crayolas and draw on the walls of the school like 64 color art vigilantes. we would write in big block letters, "YOU WILL NOT HOLD US UMBER!," because that would get the attention, at least, of the poor custodian, who gets paid far too little to be scraping up that peppermint scented saw dust they put on vomit and doodles.
how sad to never be a mess, to never create, for when you steal that, you steal a little of divinity, because cleanliness is further from godliness than you would ever believe. instead, i helped him cut out a wing, so our monster could learn how to fly away from misguided ideologies masquerading as theology and, as they walked out the door, i gave him a wink and whispered...
"fly, monster, fly."
they really should have vetted me better, before they turned me loose on these wonderful monsters. oh yes, i am a mess.