From this past Sunday, first thing in the morning.
The tomato slices in the bowl, in case this isn’t clear, are wooden play tomato slices (from the Melissa & Doug Cutting Food Box).
As I wrote before, the offerings to Outside seem to me to be a kind of spontaneous animism. Which, to me, is just absolutely beautiful and profound.
I’d thought I’d have more to say about that, but I don’t; I just wish we’d caught on video the previous offering, where Toby was reaching into the air, plucking imaginary lettuce, and then offering that to Outside. (You can kind of see the beginnings of this in the video I posted two days ago, at about the 20-second mark.) His hand wasn’t palm out and grasping, but rather palm facing in, palm flat, fingers together, as if he was—well, I don’t know quite what to compare it to; as if he was sliding an envelope out from behind a framed painting, hung high on a wall, where he’d hidden it?
From last Friday. Does he have the funk? Yes, he’s got the funk.
Where did these lyrics come from? Like any kid, he’s into Band-Aids; as a young man of discerning taste, he likes Curious George—but if there’s a story in which the latter wears the former, I don’t know it.
I kind of think that the board book you can see in the bottom of the video about 50 seconds in or so might have something to do with it, since it’s a kind of visual pun (analog? rhyme?) of a Band-Aid. If that makes sense. But who knows? These are awesome lyrics, no matter what. Not to mention cool dance moves.
I keep hearing this proto-song in my head set to music by my old friend Dan Koontz, actually. I’m hearing Clavinet. I’m hoping Dan still has his.
By the way, I think “strummin-de-open-de” might refer to “strummin’ on the old banjo.”