Let’s stop our hectic schedules, pause our reckless lifestyles and remember the person we once were, surrounded by people we once thought we knew. Those sweet times when reality was far from the truth, but it would have to do for then. Let’s take a look back to those days when we were praised for our mistakes and encouraged to render the world through our abstract minds. Freedom.

When trees could look like broccoli and had little to no roots to show.
How the grass – without a doubt, always made its horizontal zig-zagged appearance across the bottom of our pages, as faithful as the sun that showed up ever so often at the top right-hand corner of our 8″ x 11″ world.

Do you remember the hilarity of our dream homes? When all houses consisted of a triangle on top and a rectangle on the bottom – and if we were realists, we would add a chimney with smoke. And it was OK that the smoke rose into the sun because the golden ratio and proportions never mattered. It was acceptable that our homes never had windows on the ground floor and it was cute the way our doorbells were larger than our doorknobs.

Do you miss it when it was OK for our flowers to be taller than our doors and homes? When clouds always came in small puffs that hung as low as the trees and centimeters above our homes because science hadn’t ruined everything yet?

Because I do. I miss creativity.

The same creativity that made it OK for a young girl to be smoking underneath a tree, simply because it completed the mood.