Come into my world, I’ve got to show you,
I have dreams of orca whales and owls…
I am the Dreamer. Poet. Art heart. I am the quiet person in the room, with the faraway look in her eyes. The kid in the class who stared out the window, mesmerised by the shape of clouds in the sky.
Even as a grown-up, I haven’t lost this sense of wonder and enchantment. I may work a nine-to-five shift and do my best impersonation of being a somber adult. But just beneath the surface, flow the tidal currents of my imagination, sweeping me off into alternate worlds, where I can hear the distant rumble of the sea, or go roaming through secret forests.
I am the stubborn Romantic who believes in soulful, spellbinding love, however fleeting. Encounters that are the stuff of Gothic novels and Nina Simone songs. I believe in magic. The bewitching kind, described in books you read when you were too young to feel doubt. Not the hapless stories about princesses trapped in towers, hoping to be rescued, though.
My brand of magic is steelier. It’s the wizardry to be creative, believe in the near-impossible, bend the rules of reality and reinvent it. It’s the kookiness to see viridian, rose, aqua, shell-pink and silver. Where others see black and white. To pull out love songs, story books, jazz tunes, and ideas you haven’t heard of, out of the ether. And turn them into real things.
I am not afraid of being the misfit. The outsider who steps out of the frame, to look at the world differently. From a whole other angle. Call me weird. It’s a word I have come to embrace. I am immune to the opinions of the crowd and the too-hard edges of reality.
I move to my own inner vibe. My intuition is my compass. My heart, the anchor, along my never-ending search for inspiration. But it is my sensitivity that is my badge of honour. It lets me peer into the heart of things and see beauty in the ordinary and the messy.
Don’t dismiss me as too dreamy, too unrealistic, too strange…These are my secret weapons, to move beyond, deeper, higher. To script a new story, when the tale seems finished. And dream it into life.
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