The Forest is my Imagination

Sometimes, at the beginning of a week, I find that my attention and thoughts are focused in a beautiful place, like a forest of trees. Living in that forest is normal, and possibilities are paths through them.

In this forest, you don’t have to walk the paths, and if you choose to, you don’t do it for any purpose.  You do it because you want to walk the path. The passage and exploration are more important than the journey’s end.

And, oh, how I hate pulling myself out of this forest.

Saturday, I got to take my newly sewn Ren Fair garb out for a spin at a local Tartan Days festival, and I smoked a clay pipe. We were outside all day amidst others in garb, musicians and artisans recreating pieces of a society that were once commonplace.

Sunday, I went to the St. Louis Comic Con, cosplaying as Amy/River Song after having seen the Silence. Cohiba and I wandered the stalls of artwork and t-shirts, discovering new artists and “antique” toys that we remember from our childhood.  Thor and Spiderman were walking around, Cohiba and I thought about getting 3-D figures of ourselves made, and I got to look fondly on Lou Ferigno, who’s Hulk was a staple of my early childhood and one of my imaginary friends.

The beginning of this week has been hard, as I want to keep walking down the path.

Okay, your turn.

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