Nature was My Third Parent

Nature was my third parent.

It baffled me and bewildered me that I could create something .

From a simple process with my own hands.

But I did not dwell on my amazement .

And I understood it immediately.

Since then i've always had a respect for Nature

It's the only perfect thing.

How We Roll

It's winter! Children are baking cookies and parents are buying presents for Christmas.

 Laszlo House Winter: I'm going to give you the good stuff first.

There's always the tradition of Christmas morning cinnamon rolls, candy on the trees, and presents and joy. Then there's also laughing at tacky Christmas specials, fighting with your siblings, and parents' present preparations.

In this house, about two weeks before Christmas, no one can go downstairs, unless someone broke their leg and my mom left the phone downstairs.

There's always going to be present preparations. In this house, there is never a bad present. If there is, suck it up and say thanks.

And, later in the winter, there's also the snow.

Of course, we're not allowed to throw snowballs at the littles, which is what we call our little siblings. But when me and Henry get into it, it's warfare.
 
Winter 101, in the Laszlo family house.

Sneaky Squashes

One day, I'm just sitting down, playing on the computer, and then my mom calls me down. And I'm like, "Am I in trouble, what's going on?" I don't know.

She takes me outside and shows me my garden. Wow, Mom. Plants. Big thing.

Then, she lifts up one of the leaves and I see this huge, and I mean HUGE (I never saw this, and I've had my garden for a while) white pumpkin. So, my brain is trying to process this, and the first thing that pops into my mind is that as soon as I dumped all those cucumber seeds into my garden, someone sneakily switched them out with pumpkin seeds. But as my brain narrows it down, it becomes more logical. Then, finally, it pops in. It was all the pumpkin seeds in the compost!

It's so weird how I've had this garden for three months, and these huge pumpkins grew behind my back. Like No big deal, we're just going to grow here. Oh, here he comes! Hide!"

I'm pretty disappointed in my garden for not growing cucumbers, but I'm also happy and proud. So, the moral of the story: Always double check your garden, because a ninja might have switched out your cucumber seeds with squash seeds.

Sneaky squashes are a force to be reckoned with.

A Masterpiece of Words

For our project, we need to file and sand boards. When I look at them, I get a sweet feeling, like love, right at the beginning.

 A lot of projects can be fun. They can start out good. They can end well. Some of them can even fail. But when you fail, you just gotta know how to pick yourself back up again. This project is going to be an art show with my mom. We're going to try and paint fifteen paintings apiece. It's going to be lots of fun. My brother will make make pastries and snacks.

But really, it's not about making money, or having a reason to make a party. For people who paint the stuff, it's about letting everything out. Letting out your expressions into art. To the artist, it's really just about being yourself. He or she has to put dedication into making people happy to be there.

We're all caged, and there's only one key for each of us, to get us out: when we figure out what we want to do when we grow up. It's not that easy for an artist. An artist has to figure out what he's going to do when he grows up, when what he wants to do most is be himself. End of story.

The Calling of Autumn

I love our Magnolia tree this time of year. 
I feel like the bare branches are like billions of fingers, reaching out to me, all connected to one hand. The fingers, getting weaker as the wind brushes by them. 
The fingers fall off. 
The leaves, like skin flakes, growing and regrowing. 
The leaves like a million tiny moving beetles, crawling around toppling over each other. 
The hollow branches, the wind whistling through the bark. 
As if the wind is calling out to the tree. 
It says, "Your cycle is almost over. The cycle of your existence."

Letting a Friend Go

If my mom hasn't already posted this on Facebook, my friend T. recently told me he's moving away. So, I wanted to talk about that stage of life. Letting a friend go,  having a pet die. That kind of stuff.

Me and my friend T. were one of the best of friends. We would always fight, we would always skateboard, we would always find a way to make stuff happen.

I'm sure all of the grown-ups of the world have dealt with this too. Even if something went wrong between you and your friend, it would always take less than an hour to solve it.

Letting go is never easy to do. It's called moving on. We all have to do it. You know it has to happen and you can't do much about it. You just gotta accept it. It was bound to happen.

Hope you like New Mexico, Dude.

Thomas Laszlo: Tennis Player

A long time ago, I was a dull, broken, knife, in a dark alleyway, with a tattered, broken, tennis ball. Then, I saw a light! It was my dad, and he BLACKSMITED me into a broad sword that could cut through the toughest steel.

       And that's the day there was born a tennis player.