“Every artist must combine the innocence of a child with the wisdom of an old man.”  —Irving Stone

It was a perfect Spring day to be a child and to dream. To look out with nothing in particular in mind, and to allow that unfinished nothing thought to tumble into another and then another, completely unresolved, until it finds a place to gently land for a second, and, like a butterfly, sip some invisible sweetness from that moment before moving on to find yet another place and moment to explore and to be pleasantly distracted by . . . again and again.

How important it is to take these quiet, creative moments and how rare they seem; moments where we are absorbed in nothing else but the moment and to see where it leads, and more importantly, where we allow ourselves to go when we follow. Not to the usual place, or a lesser one, but to allow the moment to guide us just slightly above and away from the present . . . especially during stressful times.

To take a deep breath, be still, and to imagine. To stay alone in our imaginings just for a moment, in the midst of it all, and to dream as a child dreams . . .