Sunday, January 30, 2005


Peta' Pan......... The child who never grew up. The boy who's imagination allowed him to fly.

IMAGINATION. Creativity. fairies, in flight, in magic

I will never see Peter Pan the same. I now see that sweet, blue-eyed, face of Freddie Highmore. His pain and his struggle to BELIEVE in magic. How can a child believe in magic when he's experienced the death of his parent at such a young age.

I was 12 when my mother died of leukimia. I don't know when I stopped believing in MAGIC but it was definitely before my mother died. I stopped believing in Santa when I was 5, and at 12 I was already the practical, "grounded", person I am today! I didn't have James Barrie to challenge my beliefs. Or perhaps I did; my mom's best friend who became my second-mom, somehow allowed me to be a child like only a mother can. And that was not an easy task; I sure was stubborn just like Peter.

And yet, in my DREAMS, I flew. I've had the flying dreams since I can remember. (One of my all-time FAVORITE books is my PETER PAN book, it's a bit torn up now but still with me.)

In my dreams, I'm flapping my arms with all my strength to rise off the floor, if I was inside the house (just like Wendy, Peter, & John). But when I was outside I could fly with the wind. It's scary and exhilarating. See how HIGH I can go?!, be careful of the telephone wires and the buildings. The wind can be so strong; you must navigate carefully. I've always loved my flying dreams. I haven't had one for awhile. Perhaps tonight!

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