I was a lucky little girl, in that my mom regularly read to us children at night. It was a comforting routine in a largely uncomfortable world. One story that was very special to me resided in a children’s compendium of stories, so I can’t recall the exact title. I’ve come to discover that it’s an oft-told tale, but at the time it was like a rare jewel in its truth and its magnitude. It was the story of a little girl with a magic pencil.
It’s been a long time since I’ve heard the story, but I remember the basics: a lonely little girl comes to own a pencil that she discovers is magic, because what she draws becomes real. The downside is that every time she draws the pencil becomes less, but in her hands is the ability to create worlds.
When you’re a child and at the mercy of circumstance and institution, such a notion immediately enters the realm of fairy tale. But I recognized the truth of it.
Since that time, I will often attempt to harness my best intent into my art, drawing it real. I’ve had good results, though some scenarios take longer to others to solidify. Still, it’s a fun process.
Currently we are working towards the goal of acquiring some acreage and our own homestead, far and away from the thrum of city life. I know we will get there. In the meantime, this future is being reflected in the art I create, as I try to connect potential and probability.