When I was a girl, maybe 9-12
year old, I had two similarly remarkable incidences happen to me. In our front
yard landed a large silver balloon. Each was just like the ones from Andy
Warhol’s art, only a little more deflated having been in flight beforehand.
They were taller than I was, and almost as big as our VW bus.
Each one came down from the
sky and into MY yard. Twice! On two seperate occasions! Perhaps even a year or two apart from each other.
We did’nt know what they
were. But I knew magic had happened, when each one found me. I knew it was a
bizarre freak incident that I’d been blessed with but it somehow felt perfectly
natural to me. Like they were meant for me and no one else. Perhaps they were
signs from my angels, telling me, “Use these to channel your creativity. You
will be an artist someday, as you have wished.”
Or “We are watching you and we know you are a true believer in magic.
Never stop!”
I did follow my dream to become an artist for a living….and I have never stopped believing in magic.
