Paper airplanes remind me of little boys in my childhood who made paper airplanes. They remind me of how, in watching, their paper airplanes, I wanted to make my own…but never did.

Paper airplanes folded of notebook paper sit at the desk of a boy whose name is Jeffery.

Paper airplanes with intricate wing spans and folds and a not so crisp noses.

I like simple things like paper airplanes, folded paper airplanes that go far when thrown across a room.

I want my children to learn and know about simple things like airplanes, paper airplanes made of notebook paper that can be intricately folded to make something more beautiful.

It’s just paper. It’s just paper folded into something else.

Pilots and airplane makers can be boys…or girls.

Making do with what you’ve got. I hope they, my girls, learn that. I hope they learn to make paper airplanes. I hope they care to fly what they’ve created and create things just for sake of seeing what flying feels like.

STOP.

Hmm. Writing this was interesting. I realize that I’ve become so used to writing in, or, on, a certain trajectory of linear development that I’ve become afraid to experiment with circular developments. This post was an experiment.