Oh Yes I Can | Magazine

“Oh yes I can.”

So he erased the words. He said the other thing. Out loud. To the attic dust. oh yes i can magazine

His older sister, Elena, could. She could make a charcoal eye look wet, a hand look bony and real. Leo’s stick figures leaned like they’d been caught in a gale. So when Ms. Kowalski announced the “Dream Big” poster contest, Leo didn’t just feel defeated—he felt factually defeated. “Oh yes I can

It had no barcode. The paper was thick, almost cloth-like. The title, embossed in gold foil, read: To the attic dust

The second article was an interview with a man who had taught his paralyzed left hand to play Chopin. The third was a blueprint for a “Possible Machine”—a cardboard contraption of mirrors and rubber bands meant to catch a glimpse of the version of you who had practiced, who had tried, who had failed seventy times and succeeded on the seventy-first.