{thanksfully 3.0 ♦ remember}

Dream House 1992 2

When I was a college sophomore, I began drawing pictures of my someday house.

It apparently included a dream catcher, with apologies to… well, anyone with non-appropriating taste.

It also included a lot of drapery. Everywhere. It included striped wallpaper. A differently striped wallpaper border. An amazingly Jetsons lamp. And…purple carpet? Hoo boy.

The funniest thing about all of this is that I actually almost reproduced this room — sans the purple carpet — without even having seen this piece of *cough* artwork in years. Our townhouse looked a lot like this – down to my painting of mountains and water (never watercolor unfortunately), and the striped wallpaper border, people.

The past — the things that shape us — stay with us.

For good or for ill, those things which made us the people we once were also make us the people we are. Those things have an unduly heavy influence – until we make a deliberate and concentrated effort to set them aside. Today I’m grateful when the little voice says to me, “Remember, remember,” it’s not about how much fun it is to muck about with sparklers, but it’s a reminder that whatever sparks that fueled the imagination of a young woman remain, and can still kindle a fire that transforms the world.

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