April 16, 2010

A few objects in my office:

A clay figure made by my youngest son when he was in elementary school. It looks like an alien. If I shake it, it jingles, and all of the bad juju disperses into the universe. After all, there’s good juju in things made by small hands, isn’t there? It’s embedded in the fingerprints.

A photograph of my youngest daughter and a friend standing at the top of a ladder as George and Rebecca in a production of Our Town. Both gaze wistfully at an imaginary moon. There’s wonder in their eyes, and I believe they conjured it from a distant somewhere and brought it to the stage.

A couple of action figures, Jesus and Freud, that a friend put on my desk to hang out with me when my eldest son was diagnosed with cancer. A year-an-a-half later, they’re still  hanging out. I look at those two figures and think of the gut-wrenching fear a parent experiences when a child falls ill, and the magic of a friend who knows just what you need.

A nice thing… conjuring. Conjuring disperses the bad juju, brings you the moon wherever you are. It invites Jesus and Freud to the same party, pours them a drink or two, and makes them laugh.

One Response to “Talismans”

  1. KenHoney said

    So I says to Freud, “Ping pong balls? I thought you said–”

    But I kid. I kid.

    Yes. There’s magic in them things. I have Paul and John action figures from Yellow Submarine. Given to me by my son after he’d disappointed me. I know they conjure up goodness every day.

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