Childhood Magic

"Great... is he who does not lose his child's-heart." ~Mencius, Book IV

"A child's world is fresh and new and beautiful, full of wonder and excitement... [a] clear-eyed vision [and] true instinct for what is beautiful and awe-inspiring." ~Rachel Carson

"Like a forgotten fire, childhood can always flare up again within us." ~Gaston Bachelard

"I am often accused of being childish. I prefer to interpret that as child-like. I still get wildly enthusiastic about little things. I tend to exaggerate and fantasize and embellish. I still listen to instinctual urges. I play with leaves. I skip down the street and run against the wind. I never water my garden without soaking myself. It has been after such times of joy that I have achieved my greatest creativity and produced my best work." ~Leo F. Buscaglia

"Think what a better world it would be if we all - the whole world - had cookies and milk about three o’clock every afternoon and then lay down with our blankies for a nap." ~Robert Fulghum

"My childhood may be over, but that doesn't mean playtime is." ~Ron Olson

"...Forget your years to-day and come
As children back to childhood's house."
~Phoebe Cary

"One of the virtues of being very young is that you don't let the facts get in the way of your imagination." ~Sam Levenson

"The end of childhood is when things cease to astonish us. When the world seems familiar, when one has got used to existence, one has become an adult." ~Eugene Ionesco

"In every real man a child is hidden that wants to play." ~Friedrich Nietzsche

"Children have neither past nor future; they enjoy the present." ~Jean de la Bruyere

"We must remain as close to the flowers, the grass, and the butterflies as the child is who is not yet so much taller than they are... Whoever would partake of all good things must understand how to be small at times." ~Friedrich Nietzsche

"Happy is he who still loves something he loved in the nursery: He has not been broken in two by time; he is not two men, but one, and he has saved not only his soul but his life." ~G.K. Chesterton

"Every child is an artist." ~Pablo Picasso

Treasure the magic of childhood in your heart and carry it with you through all your walks of life. Never stop searching for enchantment and beauty.

All of the beautiful paintings are by the talented Greg Olsen.

Magical Sunshine

My soul sings of Spring sunshine, childhood light and Summer evenings; the magic of making mud pies and rolling down grassy hills, or swinging so high you touch the sky with the tips of your toes; finding images in the clouds and searching for butterflies.

Birds sing with the wind's waltz, weaving through the trees and skating along the earth's green carpet. The air feels and smells of Spring, warm golden sunshine cloaks me. Enchantment surrounds me, fills me, whispers secrets in my ear.

Happiness is swelling inside me. Sparkles of imagination, joy, laughter, inspiration, love, beauty and magic are all dancing through my veins. It's the feeling of dreaming that perfect dream.

I spent five glorious hours outside today and feel richer than if I had found a treasure trove of gems. All 300 precious minutes were jewels.

I'm totally and completely happy. Perfection exists.

Skin Shedding

"No one ever forgives us for changing. They want us to be constant as the wind and always wear the same colours but we’re not meant to be that way. We’re supposed to be a little different each morning when we wake up... [to] become someone else wearing the same eyes. It’s a little uncomfortable, like a snake shedding skins. They never forgive [us] for changing but [we should] do it with passion because you need to die a little bit now and then to feel alive." (Princess Skye from "The Lost Princess")

I think this is such a beautiful description about change and I fell in love with it the moment I read it. Lately I've done a lot of 'skin shedding' and feel like an entirely new person from who I was a year ago, months ago, weeks ago, even days ago.

Though with each part of me that dies, something more wonderful is born.

Painting: "A Bouquet of Peonies and Tulips" by Comtesse D`Aubigny D`Afoy

Down the Rabbit Hole

I tumbled down the Rabbit Hole 5 March into a new and darker Wonderland, full of many seemingly impossible things: talking flowers, vanishing cats, potions and cakes that can make you shrink or grow, and Mad Tea Parties.

This isn't Lewis Carroll's tale of Alice, but Tim Burton's imagined continuation of the story–– a journey of self discovery and good vs. evil as imaginative Alice is caught up in a unique, magical world under the reign of the Red Queen, far different than the Wonderland she thought she knew.

I was awed by the visual feast and inspired by this wonderful film's magic and inspiration. I must tumble back down to Wonderland soon.

Autumn's Song

Along this path, in phrases of light,

trees sing their leaves; each wind caress
a sigh, the forest’s breath. In the dusk,
lamplight flickers from the fairies harboured
within, huddling from the pinch of winter’s

approaching frost. Fire, gold and rubies
are a scattered tapestry, evidence from half
naked branches lacing the cloudy sky. Sun,
now a stranger, shyly peeks through. Your fingers
trace the knots in the trees' bark, their giant

stature reaching towards heaven's gate,
evidence of time’s wisdom. Their ancient eyes
observe the forest grove; witnesses. The leaves
fall… fall….. fall…....
yet the trees never cease to sing.

Written by Princess Camille
A response poem to Carol Ann Duffy's "Plansong"
Image Source: Unknown (I got it offline too long ago to remember.)

Wish

A single diamond, sparkling in an ocean of darkness. I reach out to touch it, but it floats away with nothing more than whisper, "Make a wish." I bear my heart and soul; in exchange, the star becomes a part of me. See it reflecting in my eyes?

Artist of Painting Unknown.

Attics

A pocketful of treasures, a trunk full of secrets; stowed away daydreams laying forgotten under layers of time's shadow dust. Blow away and watch it glisten in the sun peaking through the cracks of the ceiling; spiderwebs. The sound of the lock echoes in the breathing air. I peek inside... and discover a long ago memory, still waiting for me.

Fairies are dancing across my mind against the hum of a far distant sea.

Painting "Attic Light" by artist Peter Taylor Quidley