childhood
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Life is a series of deaths, the most devastating of which occurs upon deciding there is nothing more worth learning. No opinions worth hearing that don’t validate your own, no more care for why the grass is green, for the stories the constellations are named for, for the sleeping giants in the museums. This is…
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A friend of mine once told me that, statistically, you’re more likely to grow up to do your childhood dream job than anything else. I don’t doubt her. I know artists and blacksmiths, jewelry makers and authors, people making a living on crafts you would expect from a bustling European village circa 1765. For my…
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Starting around the age of 5, I became obsessed with dragons (and dinosaurs, of course, but these were just two parts of the same puzzle as far as I was concerned at that age). My mother, ever the supportive parent, took this enthusiasm and ran with it. Along with books like Dragonology, she also began…
from the pen of icarus blake 