A Tire Swing Story is a bite-sized "imagining" inspired by an object I discover while wandering. It could be a curbside trash gem or a message sprayed on a wall. A lost mitten, or an antique store find. Anything goes. I photograph the object and post them together, the story and its inspiration. There will be a new story every Monday and Wednesday. On Fridays, I'll discuss writing, life, love, and coffee. (In no particular order and maybe all at once.)

Friday, January 6, 2012

Casual Fridays: for the love of scars

Hi guys. It's Britt.
I've got this one on my knee from grade six camp. We were playing the "survival game, and I was a herbivore. I crouched beneath a bush, my heart knocking around in my chest. There was  the a crash of breaking branches. A carnivore. In my escape, a tree branch sliced the skin above my knee. Blood poured down my leg. I remember being proud that I didn't cry. Many years later, I've still got a faint white line running along my knee. 

A scar. 
Scars tell stories about where we've been. I want to celebrate all my scars today as a road map of my life experiences. What about you? What stories could your body tell?


Have a rich weekend, story-makers. See you back here on Monday. 
Britt

p.s. I adored the Survival Game and wish I could play it right now. Who's in?

5 comments:

  1. I also love the scar "one-upmanship" scene from Jaws, when I was young it made me yearn to have my own special scar with an amazing story attached!

    Scars seem to convey a life lived without fear.

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  2. I am! Those tricksy carnivores! It is no wonder you are a vegetarian! Love the blog Britt, keep those stories coming!

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  3. I LOVED Survival too!! Forgot all about it till now. I'll play.

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  4. Okay, it looks like we're building a good game.
    We need at least one "carnivore," "herbivore," "element," and then man. "Man" was always the teacher when we played. xo

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  5. The 3 scars I am the most proud of are the ones from giving birth to my children. The one that still makes me gag is one that I got when I was a teenager, babysitting a dog and slicing open my thumb while opening a can of (gag) dog food. I can still smell that gross stuff...

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