Notes to My Loves

    P eople are creatures of their environment and their own free will. Some are loved, cherished, admired and nurtured. Some are mistreated, angry, abandoned, and broken. Some are a kaleidoscope of both. Mixed and matched with both brilliance and brutality.     Some are go-getters who can't wait to help the next person they haven't even met yet. They are filled with light and a contagious zest for life. These are the people who we are drawn to. The people who we call when we need to hear sound advice. Individuals who we look at and wish we were more like. We look at how they live and wonder how we can capture that whimsical essence.     Then there are others we meet in life. Sometimes we choose to have these people in our lives, while other times they are thrust there haphazardly. With them, they bring anger and angst. They spew words of volcanic vulgarity and leave us shell shocked. Maybe these people have long had their light extinguished. P...

     Whisperings. Visions. The yet to be, revealed in dreams of slumber. Inspiration in the most unexpected of places. All of these have bestowed upon me in my life. Sometimes I have brushed them off, for fear of sounding absurd. Other times I have pondered them, tried to analyze them, and discussed them openly with friends and family. I embrace them.  However, sometimes the inspiration seems so dreamlike and distant that we are sure that is all it is. We wait and wait, and NOTHING. We become tired, testy, and let the dream die. A fading memory or wish of what might have been.      This is a story of an inspiration. Of a strong need to complete something that was so foreign to me, yet needed to be done. I had no idea what would become of it, or why I was compelled to do it. But I listened to the whisperings. I was overcome with a need to finish what I started. So I worked diligently. I didn't stop until it was done.       It all starte...