One of my favorite things to do (outside) growing up was to blow bubbles. It was fun. It was silly. And you almost always got sticky. But perhaps more importantly it was always happy-making. Perhaps not quite as fun, but still high up on the list is taking pictures of other people--be they kids or adults--blowing bubbles. Trying to get that one shot. Trying to capture the moments. Trying to capture the joy. I took a whole roll (yes, this was before digital cameras) once of my sister and her friend blowing bubbles. It was quite fun. And it was full of laughs. (Then again, you can't be around K, my sister's friend, without it turning into a laugh-fest most of the time.)
What do my personal memories have to do with Wendy R. Lynch's book Pop!? Well, her book is a collection of photographs. The book starrs her own sons and her own nieces and nephews. She has combined photographs of her loved ones blowing bubbles and playing with bubbles along with her text, her narrative. Her writing, in places, is quite lyrical.
First sentence:
"The beauty of the bubble is when it POPS in the air you wonder, where did it go, for it left no trace."
Favorite sentence(s):
"Memories are like bubbles, some pop so fast we forget all about them. Others drift by us, and WOW us so much that we wish we could hold on forever, but they still POP and disappear. Still others linger, taking their time to float into our memories to be remembered later. While the rest drift along with us never really disappearing."
The beauty of this book is that it captures some of the essence of childhood, of life, the vitality and joy of it all.
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