Gala day in the Park.....

Trading Cardboard Stories for Stranger's Stories....
Good Stuff!

And this is what was in the bottom of the tube....

A random stack of this weeks cardboard meanderings...

There's no such thing as an Empty Box....

Daybreak.  And Ray flies over the little bridge, pedaling through the morning sounds, following the Sunrise to home....And the boxes spill from the rickety little bicycle basket onto the deck...

This morning's finds....




I'll strip the sides off and wait for him to come home again to start painting....in tandem...the next little batch of  random cardboard stories.

And tonight,
When we get to Artisan Alley,
we'll fill the little pink box with a rainbow of words....And see which ones have wings....
Which ones reach out....to someone...
And
for a tiny second...
make a difference.

We'll watch for laughter, secret smiles, slow trains of thought....
And
we'll embrace the reactions of the strangers
that,
for just a moment,
we've known forever......

Our First Night Out...

This is before we had the Pink Box.....the wind would rattle it's fanny to the sound of the Drums and signs would blow everywhere....Funny, but looking back....this was the coolest.  Folks sat on the concrete drive-way plundering through the stacks of signs....spreading them out like graffiti fans on the sidewalk....

We had a lot of explaining to do.  People reached down the tube.  Stared at it.  Read it and stared again.  And then we told them what to do....

"Find a sign you think is cool, grab it...and drop whatever you like down the tube"  "It doesn't have to be money.  Just talk to us the way the sign speaks to you" 

That first night at the Moon Circle, we drove an hour home before we climbed out of the truck and emptied the tube....

We don't drive as far most nights, now...

But the heart thrill is still the same.  We tip the tube over...and smile.  There are love letters and trinkets.  Worry stones and change.  A rock  brought back from a hundred mile hike is carefully wrapped in tissue.  A handmade pyramid.... dollar bills with love notes scribbled on them. 

We wonder if the people our signs touch,
know how much they've touched us....

Make it Simple....

Ray splatters, spills, smears the paint on the cardboard remnants....we  get it everywhere, celebrating in the simple splashes of colors.  No rules.  No lines.  No time frames.  And then they lay there.  Scattered on our tiny kitchen floor...
Talking to me...

I see the faces, the fairytales, the dreams, the memories
in the puddled colors....
And then it's simple.
I just tell their stories...out loud,
in words...

And then we pack them up,
and haul them with us on our Friday Night dates,
to Farmer's markets,
Artisan's alleys,
Moon  circles,
and Drum Circles,
And wait for the people that they were meant to go home with
to walk by...
to be touched by the simple words...
to hold their cardboard close...
     to laugh, to smile, to pause....

And tell us their stories.....

In the Beginning.....

We just knew....we wanted to put it all out there...
Words, thoughts, emotions, imagination...
stolen moments...
captured forever in scribble,
dribble,
dripping paint...
on free cardboard...

And then..
we thought...
We'd share it.

Not sell it.

Not litter it.

Just share it.

And see what other folks might share back.

This is that journey...