Which reminds me, when I was out in Logan, Utah in December hanging with the Great-Aunties, Aunt Shirley dragged out an album with some of her choice correspondence. Upon flipping through the book, what did I spy, but a letter from a youthful me. The letter was dated in the 1970s, but both Mom and I agree. Based on the handwriting and the subject matter, it must have been the early 1980s. No matter. Just look at that. Isn't this cute?
To be truthful, I'm about 150% sure this is not an original work. I think it was a black & white drawing that I enhanced before I sent it off in the mail.
Remember when we would just draw and be free and not constricted by self doubt? When we could be content to just color and draw, and sketch and paint, and trace and scribble -- just for fun?
Remember when we'd BEG to go out and play in the snow? When we'd BEG to go out and make snowballs, snow forts, snow angels, and snowmen - excuse me snow PEOPLE? When we'd have to be coaxed inside when our faces where bright red, our noses streaming (let's be honest here), when we couldn't feel our fingers or toes - and we'd have cocoa to warm up?
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