I spend time curled up with them on the couch or daydreaming on a bus.
I examine all the little symbols and translate them into thoughts, questions, musings.
This thin, squiggly line must be a peaceful road.. with wet deciduous trees that hush the wind and shake little plump droplets onto your face. The road might be narrow, winding and steep. I could feel powerful as I rock my bike back and forth, ascending. I might puff white wisps of carbon dioxide into the air, ears red and legs warm.There could be darling houses and old architecture. A bakery that has the BEST cinnamon rolls.
When I look at maps-- I see the potential of all that could be.
Maps to me, are hope.
Because hope is having grounds to believe that something good will happen.
