more faith.

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when i was nine years old my favorite thing to do was go out and about and play by myself.

not much has changed.

i used to create imaginary worlds, whether on paper, or simply in my head.  i had all these fantastical ideas of the characters and special places of my very own imagined world.  i would lay in the front yard, under a tree affectionately named "roggy", and dream.  there are so many things i would dream about...who and what i would be when i grew up,  i would imagine a variety of alternate lives i could be living in.

a young maiden living in a castle.
a rough around the edges tomboy growing up on a farm in the south.
life as a royal in a small european country.
or maybe i was an animal...
or what if i didn't exist at all...

these were the places my nine year old mind took me.  wherever it was i always felt a little more alive in my imagination than i did in reality.

the funny thing is, nothing was particularly sad, dull, or unhappy about the world i was living in, i just seemed to enjoy and bask in the alone time rather than actual real life time.

i did enjoy my actual friends and my daily life.  i had many friends in fact, who liked to do the things i liked to do too.  we'd spend days going on bike rides, swimming in the neighborhood pool, climbing trees, kicking around a soccer ball, roller blading, and reading archie comics while nursing push pops.  those friends and good times existed and yet still more often than not i usually found that the alone time of imaginary escape brought the greatest joys.

i think that alone time was necessitated by an overactive imagination that needed its daily space to run free and wild.  while more often than not i imagined happy lives and love and joy and wonder.  sometimes i would imagine death and destruction.  not death and destruction that i was instigating, but rather death and destruction that came about by some completely unnatural causes...perhaps that was the small amount of science-fiction influence in my life.

now, at twenty-nine, i find my favorite time is sitting down, putting pen to page, and entering into that imaginary world of characters and places and creating life with them.

this year, 2014, is decidedly my year to write.  it is my year to invest my heart and my life into this passion of mine.  as i really began to unfold and press out this dream in november, i found the story.  amongst vignettes and scribblings it began to piece itself together almost in its own power as if i had no influence on the words whatsoever.  i was just the fingers touching the keys and the hand holding the pen.

with the dedication to daily writing, i excitedly and wholeheartedly pursue this story.