words that play

Liam (age 2.11 years) is in a sand box
trying to balance his entire body weight
on the top of a plastic dump truck.
He names the truck`s digger, "a ladder".

What are you doing, Liam?

"I am standing on the FREAKING LADDER."







Earlier, Dylan (age 4.5 years) is studying his face
in a mirror; he is drawing a self-portrait.

What are you looking for, Dylan?

"I am looking for my ME."







Some degree of abstraction is part of
any language. But children make words
play. They abstract familiar objects
from concrete and actual surroundings,
strip them of certain characteristics,
and then recombine one disparate idea
with another, adding attributes without
ever having seen such a thing. A talking
dump truck, a second self in the mirror.
In this way, children play with words,
thereby contributing to a greater
mythology. A magical world view.
Their abstract ideas can also lead to
inventions, to things they actually
create and test, to test their theories
about the world. Afterall, stories of
men-with-wings preceded the invention
of workable "flying-machines."

When chldren play with words, it is
more than nonsensical poetry. It is
their creation of an unconscious
memory, one that may last the rest
of their lives, and influence how
they relate to the world. Who doesn't
carry this gold weight deeply embedded
in their heart? A childhood memory
that neatly folds into all subsequent
adult interactions? An invisible layer
of skin that holds me in, a private
skin of culture that hugs the ME
inside my me?

"Every poetic work interrupts
the usual condition, the daily
routine of life - similar to what
dreams do - in order to reinvigorate
us, to keep the very meaning
of life itself awake in us."
(Novalis)