What's so amazing that keeps us stargazing? What do we think we might see? Some day we'll find it The Rainbow Connection The lovers, the dreamers and me. - Kermit the Frog, Rainbow Connection For some reason, when I was thinking of lyrics to attach to this post, this song popped into my head. And because it's been a while, and because it's Kermit, and because there's never a bad time for muppets, I looked it up on YouTube before starting to write. Reading through the comments
Always just hunting for that near-life experience,
In fear of missing something vital from your own existence.
All your emotions subconsciously thought out and scripted
Less about how you're feeling,
More about how you f*#@ing depict it. - Scroobius Pip, Broken Promise I've never been a morning person. But as the school bus pulls away, sometimes I do sit in the quiet glow of light coming through my bedroom window and reflect. Last night, my son asked me if God loves child
"I don't want ever to be a man," he said with passion. "I want always to be a little boy and to have fun." - J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan When I was little, one of my favorite places to visit was the library. Every week, I'd ride my bike over and check out all the fairy tales and fantasies I could. The pile, as I waited, would tower above my head and barely zipper into the red backpack my parents gave me on my eighth birthday. My favorite stories were the ones with beautiful illust
All aboard my spaceship to Mercury.
Turn first at the light that's in front me.
Cause every night I'ma do it like it's my last.
This dream is all that I need, cause it's all that I ever had. - Iggy Azalea, Work Regardless of the medium, every artist struggles with the same thing: the value of their work. Whether it's an internal struggle, or the challenge of relaying this worth to a client, we all hit this wall at some point. Most of us, if you were to ask, would say that
When you blow out the candles, One light stays aglow It's the love light in your eyes, Where e'er you go. - Tom Chapin, Happy Birthday Today, my Baby Squid is five years old. My comedic genius, my tough guy, my King T'Challa (he insists that this is his real name). For some reason, five is hard. It's like closing the Baby Chapter and opening the By, Mom, I'm Off to College one. Yes, I know this is absurd, and yes, I know I feel like this every year. But holding him all cuddle