the boy with the blue hands
I came across a boy leaning over the edge of a snowy chasm, his chin in the snow and a magnifying glass in his hand, looking at the leaves and feather flowers of hoarfrost and snow...

"They're a little like ferns or the notched needles of certain cypresses," he said, his speech clipped, as if he were very cold--and he ought to have been very cold, lying there in the snow. "They're like them, but much more beautiful. I could look at them forever."
I got down on my knees to look, but he pushed me away. "You're too warm!" he said. "You'll melt them with your breath, if you don't knock them with those clumsy mittens."
I saw his hands were blue and his fingertips practically black, and his thin, sharp nose and the lobes of his ears, too.
"It's not good for you to be so cold," I said.
"It's perfect for me to be so cold," he said. "Perfect. . ." And he moved his magnifying glass over to another fringe of hoarfrost, once again lost in contemplation.


"They're a little like ferns or the notched needles of certain cypresses," he said, his speech clipped, as if he were very cold--and he ought to have been very cold, lying there in the snow. "They're like them, but much more beautiful. I could look at them forever."
I got down on my knees to look, but he pushed me away. "You're too warm!" he said. "You'll melt them with your breath, if you don't knock them with those clumsy mittens."
I saw his hands were blue and his fingertips practically black, and his thin, sharp nose and the lobes of his ears, too.
"It's not good for you to be so cold," I said.
"It's perfect for me to be so cold," he said. "Perfect. . ." And he moved his magnifying glass over to another fringe of hoarfrost, once again lost in contemplation.

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Also, on my computer it shows that you posted your entry at: 1/11/10 01:11 pm - That's a lot of 1's! :)
111!!111
Re: 111!!111
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Prrrrt.
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Re: beautiful.
Avatar blues, wow.
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there's meaning in what you write. in search of the perfect we become cold...
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The boy's enthrallment in the glamour of hoarfrost is both wonderful and frightening. Is his name Kai, perhaps?
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My younger daughter likes to say "no pun intended" in instances where there isn't possibly a pun and watch people scratch their heads, trying to figure it out (e.g., "It was a long walk this morning--no pun intended--but I feel better for it.")
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Forgive me for worrying you?
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Nine
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Love this icon of yours!
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I was really glad you gave me the link to that interview of you--it was great to read, and great to link back to your art blog. Beautiful stuff there.
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