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[recent antics, part 3]: indoor playground.

a kid’s favorite part about going to mcdonald’s or chick-fil-a: indoor playgrounds.

and still one of my favorite places on earth is city museum, a multi-story indoor playground. once an old shoelace factory, an artist transformed the building into a piece of living, playable art completely constructed from materials found around the city. a ten-story-slide. life-size suspended airplanes. whimsical, climbable sculptures. it’s a dream come true.

[recent antics, part 2]: go to the zoo.

Going to the zoo was one of the highlights of my childhood and one of the challenges I never got to complete during the 365 days. Exotic animals grew imagination with vibrant plumage, geometric stripes, pliant skin.

I just love animals.

[recent antics. part 1.]

Though documenting an everyday childhood challenge is over, I’ve still gotten into some shenanigans. When inspiration strikes, be expecting a sporadic childish antic to be posted here.

Recent-ish antic, and something you should do if you ever hit a dry spell in creating art: throwing darts at balloons filled with paint. We grew tired of people taking art too seriously. So we turned it into a game, enjoying art for art’s sake.

It’s explosive. It’s painty. It’s messy. All of my favorite things combined.

Try it.

[the final challenge]: remembrance. live boldly.

One year ago, the monotony of college applications and growing up pushed me to create an unusual new year’s resolution: doing something childish every day. So this is how my year has been spent—stargazing. Jumping (and breaking) my bed. Creating masterpieces from chalk and crayon. Running away from home, throwing  paint, writing on walls, laughing, exploring, getting lost. Creation and beauty enriched every day of this past year.

But a question lingered at the back of my mind like a ghost—why is childhood special? Things that used to come naturally suddenly became awkward and foreign, ironed out from adulthood. But after all these challenges, I think I understand a fragment of what makes childhood special:

Children know how to see the world. Everything is new. Everything is exciting. Everything is an adventure. Fear and insecurity are alien to them, because they are wrapped in the safe cocoon of being fresh and green to the world. They are enthralled with the magnificent and entertained with the interesting.

But this discovery yields a fear as well. This childish, rich perception stimulates joy and innovation. But what if people forget? What if that lovely curiosity of childhood becomes packaged and boxed up, collecting dust on forgotten shelves?

Friends, let’s not forget. Don’t let go of that fresh curiosity and love of the new. It’s easy to slip into the conundrum of the ordinary, the hum of routine, and stark concrete walls of logic. I know because I’ve been hypnotized by that seductive hum of growing up. But I’ve learned through this project that adventure is everywhere—growing in your backyard and waiting patiently in stacks of paper and pens on your desk. Journeys flow into the next, possibility is abundant; our eyes just have to capture their flare. We are always learning, always shifting, always changing.

Thanks for celebrating this rich year with me as it draws to a close. But it’d be foolish to say it’s over. Something radiant lurks out there.

I’m going to keep chasing after it.

Adventure with me.

[challenge 365/365]: live boldly. ((part 1.))

I’ve thought about this challenge—the 365th one—since the beginning. The question continually resurfaced—”what’s the last one? It’s gotta be good. It’s gotta be the most childish thing of all.” 

And I kept circling back to the one theme that seemed to tether the challenges together:

Living boldly.

Living unrestrained. Living creatively. Living joyfully and curiously and courageously.

I don’t think there’s a greater expression of boldness than climbing a mountain. There’s that beginning stretch sometimes plagued with hesitation and an awareness of the goal at hand. But nothing can beat the climactic moment of reaching the top, the ground spread beneath. From the top of a mountain, I can’t help but feel alive with possibility.

That’s why this challenge had to be the final one. It’s the idea we have to cling to, the challenge that extends onward, the one we continue to pursue. 

We’re not done yet.

Live boldly, friends.

 PS: I’m posting some final reflections tomorrow… get ready for part 2. 

[challenge 364/365]: dessert before dinner.
Breaking the conventional meal lineup by eating dessert before dinner. Kids know how to prioritize the delicious, fun sweets before the nutritious meals.

[challenge 364/365]: dessert before dinner.

Breaking the conventional meal lineup by eating dessert before dinner. Kids know how to prioritize the delicious, fun sweets before the nutritious meals.

[challenge 363/365]: snowball fight.
All my pacifistic tendencies melt away when it comes to snowball fights. Ever since I was a little kid.

[challenge 363/365]: snowball fight.

All my pacifistic tendencies melt away when it comes to snowball fights. Ever since I was a little kid.

[challenge 362/365]: balance beam (walk along the curb).

There’s a perfect curb overlooking the edge of the city just right for balancing. It reminds me of all the balance beams I used as a kid—curbs, benches, and railroad tracks—one foot placed solidly in front of the other, two arms outstretched. You wouldn’t think it provides a different perspective, one or two feet higher of the ground. It does.

Turn the world into your playground.

Photo credit: Lia Burton

[challenge 361/365]: try something new.

Children have such a willingness to try new things, since everything is new. At some point, this willingness to embrace the new and unknown fades away. We need to cling to that brave curiosity of new experiences. Today, we attempted cross country skiing for the first time. It was completely unlike anything I’ve ever done—like some weird hybrid between running, ice skating, and skiing—but we had a fun time trying it all together. Even despite the mistakes.

[challenge 360/365]: ice skating.

One of my favorite winter time activities. Growing up in a state where winter dominated most of the year, ice skating was a frequent pastime of ours.

[recent antics, part 3]: indoor playground.

a kid’s favorite part about going to mcdonald’s or chick-fil-a: indoor playgrounds.

and still one of my favorite places on earth is city museum, a multi-story indoor playground. once an old shoelace factory, an artist transformed the building into a piece of living, playable art completely constructed from materials found around the city. a ten-story-slide. life-size suspended airplanes. whimsical, climbable sculptures. it’s a dream come true.

[recent antics, part 2]: go to the zoo.

Going to the zoo was one of the highlights of my childhood and one of the challenges I never got to complete during the 365 days. Exotic animals grew imagination with vibrant plumage, geometric stripes, pliant skin.

I just love animals.

[recent antics. part 1.]

Though documenting an everyday childhood challenge is over, I’ve still gotten into some shenanigans. When inspiration strikes, be expecting a sporadic childish antic to be posted here.

Recent-ish antic, and something you should do if you ever hit a dry spell in creating art: throwing darts at balloons filled with paint. We grew tired of people taking art too seriously. So we turned it into a game, enjoying art for art’s sake.

It’s explosive. It’s painty. It’s messy. All of my favorite things combined.

Try it.

[the final challenge]: remembrance. live boldly.

One year ago, the monotony of college applications and growing up pushed me to create an unusual new year’s resolution: doing something childish every day. So this is how my year has been spent—stargazing. Jumping (and breaking) my bed. Creating masterpieces from chalk and crayon. Running away from home, throwing  paint, writing on walls, laughing, exploring, getting lost. Creation and beauty enriched every day of this past year.

But a question lingered at the back of my mind like a ghost—why is childhood special? Things that used to come naturally suddenly became awkward and foreign, ironed out from adulthood. But after all these challenges, I think I understand a fragment of what makes childhood special:

Children know how to see the world. Everything is new. Everything is exciting. Everything is an adventure. Fear and insecurity are alien to them, because they are wrapped in the safe cocoon of being fresh and green to the world. They are enthralled with the magnificent and entertained with the interesting.

But this discovery yields a fear as well. This childish, rich perception stimulates joy and innovation. But what if people forget? What if that lovely curiosity of childhood becomes packaged and boxed up, collecting dust on forgotten shelves?

Friends, let’s not forget. Don’t let go of that fresh curiosity and love of the new. It’s easy to slip into the conundrum of the ordinary, the hum of routine, and stark concrete walls of logic. I know because I’ve been hypnotized by that seductive hum of growing up. But I’ve learned through this project that adventure is everywhere—growing in your backyard and waiting patiently in stacks of paper and pens on your desk. Journeys flow into the next, possibility is abundant; our eyes just have to capture their flare. We are always learning, always shifting, always changing.

Thanks for celebrating this rich year with me as it draws to a close. But it’d be foolish to say it’s over. Something radiant lurks out there.

I’m going to keep chasing after it.

Adventure with me.

[challenge 365/365]: live boldly. ((part 1.))

I’ve thought about this challenge—the 365th one—since the beginning. The question continually resurfaced—”what’s the last one? It’s gotta be good. It’s gotta be the most childish thing of all.” 

And I kept circling back to the one theme that seemed to tether the challenges together:

Living boldly.

Living unrestrained. Living creatively. Living joyfully and curiously and courageously.

I don’t think there’s a greater expression of boldness than climbing a mountain. There’s that beginning stretch sometimes plagued with hesitation and an awareness of the goal at hand. But nothing can beat the climactic moment of reaching the top, the ground spread beneath. From the top of a mountain, I can’t help but feel alive with possibility.

That’s why this challenge had to be the final one. It’s the idea we have to cling to, the challenge that extends onward, the one we continue to pursue. 

We’re not done yet.

Live boldly, friends.

 PS: I’m posting some final reflections tomorrow… get ready for part 2. 

[challenge 364/365]: dessert before dinner.
Breaking the conventional meal lineup by eating dessert before dinner. Kids know how to prioritize the delicious, fun sweets before the nutritious meals.

[challenge 364/365]: dessert before dinner.

Breaking the conventional meal lineup by eating dessert before dinner. Kids know how to prioritize the delicious, fun sweets before the nutritious meals.

[challenge 363/365]: snowball fight.
All my pacifistic tendencies melt away when it comes to snowball fights. Ever since I was a little kid.

[challenge 363/365]: snowball fight.

All my pacifistic tendencies melt away when it comes to snowball fights. Ever since I was a little kid.

[challenge 362/365]: balance beam (walk along the curb).

There’s a perfect curb overlooking the edge of the city just right for balancing. It reminds me of all the balance beams I used as a kid—curbs, benches, and railroad tracks—one foot placed solidly in front of the other, two arms outstretched. You wouldn’t think it provides a different perspective, one or two feet higher of the ground. It does.

Turn the world into your playground.

Photo credit: Lia Burton

[challenge 361/365]: try something new.

Children have such a willingness to try new things, since everything is new. At some point, this willingness to embrace the new and unknown fades away. We need to cling to that brave curiosity of new experiences. Today, we attempted cross country skiing for the first time. It was completely unlike anything I’ve ever done—like some weird hybrid between running, ice skating, and skiing—but we had a fun time trying it all together. Even despite the mistakes.

[challenge 360/365]: ice skating.

One of my favorite winter time activities. Growing up in a state where winter dominated most of the year, ice skating was a frequent pastime of ours.

About:

(365) days of childhood challenge. do one childish thing a day.

my name is anna. the purpose of this project is remembrance--remembrance of things adulthood tends to tuck away on neglected shelves, forgotten attics. we should always be bold. adventurous. growing.

here's an introduction for a more in-depth explanation.

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