Hyla Stories

Hyla Journal Project – update!

making-journals-007

I followed the path
and then realized, that
the prettiest flowers, lay
the greater distance
from my cobblestones.
Hesitantly, I stepped off the path.
As my feet touched the spring
grass, my heart lept.
My soul freer.

Dominique,  Wellesley College ~ ’83

Hello?  What’s this?  A complete journal? And it only took two months?   It’s Journal #10 and it’s teeming with self-expression – art, poetry, recipes, history, personal narratives, and did I say artwork?  But really, one must see for one’s self.   And all I can put forth in describing the humanity preserved inside this journal, is a pale comparison in image and word.  But, I’ll do the best I can.

It appears that the journal traveled from Bainbridge Island, in the hands of a family visiting from Florida, to Poulsbo, Washington (right next to Bainbridge Island) , to Orange Park, Florida, (not anywhere near Bainbridge Island) and then back to Hyla Middle School – where it started.  The tiger was drawn by Vanessa, who’s 13 and says she’s crazy, loves volleyball, and has never drawn a tiger before.  She hopes we like it.  We do – a lot!

Just about the same time this journal was being adopted by my friend in her travels through the great Northwest, I was traveling also but thousands of miles to the south in Panama. ~ Celio

Celio, originally from Panama, now living in Florida writes- in some of the most beautiful script possible – the history of the Panama Canal and the relationship between Panama and the U.S.

Next to Celio, is an entry from Bailey, age five, who drew a girl, (is it a self-portrait?) in a beautiful dress, out for a walk under a yellow sun.

A few pages from Bailey,  there’s a short auto-biography from Carlisle, age 92.

I enjoy the opera, bourbon and coke, and watching the University of Kentucky win at basketball.  I enjoy being around good friends of all ages and hearing stories of everyone’s lives and travels. ~ Carlisle

Delle from Ida, Louisiana passed this recipe down to her daughter Nancy, and she sent it to us.  Too good, to just leave on the page we  (the sixth grade class and myself) used Nancy’s recipe and enjoyed Southern Pecan Pie on the last day of school.

And then there’s Gaby and Grace, eight years old – portrayed by Gaby as flowers, sprouting from the same soil, blooming under a life- always- together sun.  And inseparable they are on three pages they devoted to one another in Journal #10.