i was born in the year of soft blue baby blankets.

my mother was a summer night with a symphony of crickets, and fireflies dancing in the leaves of her big maple tree.

my father? he was hide-and-seek in the trees and animal sounds and gut-splitting laughter.

so i think sometimes... is it any wonder i grew up to be some kind of funky cross between aslan the lion and the prettiest kind of butterfly?

take a long look at me-- i'm effervescent, like glimmering lights after a ball. i'm warm, like a long hug after too much space. i'm bright, like eyes shining with tears from laughter. i'm beautiful.