I loafed the craft table on Monday night at Fairview Elementary School. I absorbed the familiar scent of peeling wax from the Crayola crayons. My hands virtually handled the exact same texture of the impossibly sticky Elmer’s glue as I attached colored popsicle adheres to printer paper crafts. I was simply an assistant to the artist, however. Holly from very first grade was the mastermind.
Holly brought Bingo to life through a series of complicated maneuvers with safety scissors, washable marker, Scotch tape and a couple of popsicle sticks. She drew some long hairs, beady eyes and pointy ears on white paper. The cat’s nose was intense pink.
She haphazardly cut the cat’s summary from the paper, like a mad genius on the edge of a discovery. She glued its face to a popsicle stick, and raised her production happily, like a real Dr. Frankenstein. But Bingo was not abominable, he was as charming as two-dimensional paper cats come.
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One by one the memories from a life time back came hurrying back. A little lady in a khaki skirt doodling on paper, smearing the washable marker since her palms were clammy from the accomplishment of the recess soccer video game success. A life time back, however truly just thirteen years back. It’s simple to forget that time and it’s tough to swallow when you remember everything once again.
A life time back, when an over-active creativity was almost difficult to suppress. When the equipments of imagination turned easily in her head and required no oiling. When the simpleness of cutting Bingo the Cat from cardstock seemed like life’s work. When altering the cat’s name 3 times wasn’t due to indecision, however due to flexibility of option. Due to the possibility of doing anything worldwide.
Holly taught me a lot about myself on Monday. Or perhaps she simply advised me that I originated from someplace a long period of time back. It was good to return to that location.
Humans are a secret to me. Every time I believe I’ve discovered all there is to understand, a Bingo the cat occurs and reveals me that I’m still cutting shapes from white paper, bringing my creativity to life in manner ins which don’t constantly make good sense.
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I believe the very best thing Holly taught me was that my creativity was still in my back pocket. All I needed to do was get it. I believe Holly taught me the play ground outside the class window was a lot like life. And there’s no ideal method to play. Bingo, Bowie or Bobo – it doesn’t matter. As long as the cat has a name, it’s all enjoyable and good.
I believe Bingo the Cat was a work of art. I hope Holly frames it beside her degree one day. I hope she constantly utilizes her creativity. We might all learn a lot from Holly.
Audrey Vonderahe (she/her) is a sophomore studying journalism and criminal justice. Her cat was called Tiger.
