Monday, July 7, 2014
I have talked in the past about my dreams. They are small ones by most people’s standards. They didn't used to be, but life and it's experiences have changed my heart and mind as to what it is I really want.
When I was a little girl I wanted to be an archaeologist, an artist, a writer or an actress. I wanted to travel all over the world and see everything I read in the countless books that passed through my hands. I wanted to see the Great Wall of China and I wanted to walk right up and put my hands on a pyramid. I wanted to climb through an Aztec or Incan village and I wanted to dig for Viking armor on the coasts of Europe.
As I got older and my artistic abilities became more refined and I was able to write in such a way that people could actually understand the imaginations running through my head, I began to think that either of those directions were what I wanted to take. The moments alone in my bedroom in front of a canvas or writing in my notebooks consumed so much of my time, but my insecurities and my immediate world around me didn't allow me the confidence to pursue them much beyond hobbies.
I spent years after high school not having a clue (does anyone) and making mistake after mistake in my life. Eventually, I realized that what I was doing at the time was not what I wanted for the rest of my life and so I decided to go to school. Three years later I walked across the stage and I received my degree. During that time in college I met him.