It’s odd to call myself a lady. Yes, I’m a female. And I guess a lady then too, but that word just seems to represent “old and wise” to me, and I am neither. Seriously. I still think if myself as a kid. A kid who has a job, and a child, and can drive – but definitely not a real grownup yet. Maybe that’s why I am so easily amused by imaginary things. I was going to say mythical beings.. But that almost puts a truth to them. I know the things I talk about are not real, but that’s what makes them so fun. I like being silly, making up nonsense songs to go with the funny creatures I pretend to see in everyday places. Makes the boring quiet places seem… not so boring.
Without realizing it, I raised my daughter with these same ideas. I encouraged these silly imaginary games like “what should we have for dinner – broccoli worm stew?” to keep her entertained, and from asking annoying questions like “what are you doing now? How about now? And now?” and of course, before long, she was making up random weird songs about unicorns stealing candy to feed the world all by herself. I didn’t realize it at the time but this silly “keep the kid talking” game was building her a creative quick thinking mind, of which I am jealous. Her imagination is quick, and her story telling and drawing skills grow faster everyday. Mine is slowly coming along… But it was trapped inside this tiny box for so long that it’s kinda rusty and weak.
The kid is old now. OK well she’s taller than me so that’s like being old. But we still can laugh about the tiny make believe trolls grumbling along behind us, trying to stay hidden, all the while complaining about how the humans are picking up all the “good sticks” and leaving the pewny stinky ones behind, as if tiny trolls couldn’t handle the lifting. Then, of course, their tiny whispers turns into an argument of name calling, trying to decide which one is strong enough to actually carry a “real” stick, like the ones the humans are taking. Unfortunately the two toughest looking mini-men both struggle to even lift the smallest piece of a branch, which they call a log, and sheepishly return to collecting the pewny twigs….
Yeah. We will have to record our narrative walks one day for y’all.
So for those if you that often wonder… These are the things I think about. This is where my mind goes and this is where this new brand is all coming from. Maybe I should have called it inside my head??
Eventually the kid wants us to write some of these stories down, and I might attempt to draw a few imaginary creatures …. Who knows where this will go. Everything needs to start somewhere, and since I’m not ready to be a grownup it’s going to be baby steps till I get closer.