If You Don't Believe That The World

It Seems Like I Always Wrote, I Just Didn't Think Of It As A Career Choice. I Just Liked To Tell Stories ... To Myself, To Pen Pals (i Had A Lot Of Them, All Over The World). Of Course This Was In The Days Before Computers Were Everywhere, And Anyone Could Access The Web. You Had To Make An Effort Keeping Up A Correspondence, And The Arrival Of The Mail Once A Day Was A Big Deal. I Think If Modern Technology Had Been Around When I Was A Kid, I Would Never Have Left My Bedroom Except To Take The Dogs Out For Their Run Three Times A Day.

Not Everything Has To Mean Something. Some Things Just Are.

I Was A Misfit, But I Think Most Teenagers Feel That Way. I Don't Care If You Were A Popular Jock Or The Kid Who Spent His Lunch Hours In A Stairwell Reading A Book, We All Seem To Have Dealt With Insecurities Of One Kind Or Another Throughout Our High School Years.

You Wouldn't Want Any Creative Process To Lose Its Sense Of Fun And Adventure, But That Doesn't Mean You Can't Take It Seriously As Well.

There Were Two Forests For Every One You Entered. There Was The One You Walked In, The Physical Echo, And Then There Was The One That Was Connected To All The Other Forests, With No Consideration Of Distance, Or Time. The Forest Primeval, Remembered Through The Collective Memory Of Every Tree In The Same Way That People Remembered Myth- Through The Collective Subconscious That Jung Mapped, The Shared Mythic Resonance That Lay Buried In Every Human Mind. Legend And Myth, All Tangled In An Alphabet Of Trees Remembered, Not Always With Understanding, But With Wonder. With Awe.