(the album leaf is the perfect music for thinking.)

this past weekend i took a little time to myself and fostered my introverted side. wrote a little, shot a little, opened my eyes and got inspired.  spent some time at the library, the park, the train station.  places where i grew up but haven’t really revisited in years.

i noticed the new completed wing of the library. and the new bars popping up on harbor as part of the city’s downtown revitalization project. but for the most part, to my unexpected relief, i found that the dry cleaners and liquor stores from the 70’s are still around.  perhaps i was happy because a tangible tie to my past was still intact.

it strikes me at the dawn of 24 that my childhood has been over for a decade. yes, this is an epiphany as i continue to refer to friends as “girls and boys,” talk about what i want to do “when i grow up,” and get scared of “getting in trouble.”  i suppose a little trip down my hometown’s memory lane unexpectedly conjured up images of myself as a child, and i realize how far removed i am from that person now.

i was a bright eyed, happy-go-lucky little girl with the most vivid imagination.  i was a girl scout, a gymnast, a ballerina.  i ate peaches off the tree in the backyard and played on a rusty swing set.  i was more naive than most but i wouldn’t trade those memories for anything.

childhood is so precious. we get what–ten? fifteen? years out of our whole lives to live in ignorant bliss.  after that, nothing is ever simple again for the next seventy.  pain reaches places you can’t fix and happiness is just that much more out of reach.  so why hurry? some people are adamant about prepping their kids for the real world, but really.. i think my rose-colored glasses did me a whole lot of good.  because somewhere inside, i havent lost that sense of wonder, the spark of hope that something wonderful is out there.  somewhere not far below the surface, the little girl i was reminds me that i can still dream.