there is something so wonderfully endearing and oddly enchanting about a crying baby.
nothing but raw unfettered emotion. feedback loops without the experience of deceit, malice, or manipulation
the baby exists in a world wholly unlike the one it had just been in. who are you? what are these things wrapping around my body? why is everything and everyone touching me and what is all this everything i'm finally seeing out of these eyes?
we as adults in the world, burdened with our experiences and memory, predicaments & history, just linger in a constant possibly active troubleshoot through it all, where we are at times so conscious of ourselves that it's easy to be overwhelmed.
but when you're in the presence of a new baby to the world, that's like looking at the living embodiment of the clean slate. everything is possible, everything is new and exploration is encouraged.
look at this, feel this texture and material, taste this new thing, look over here, just be unabashed and honest and true, kick up your legs in that manner, any manner that befits your mood.
everything is accepted and invited.