It all started with Slimy the Worm.

I was a dedicated fan of Sesame Street at the time, and took it upon myself to chronicle the stages of the limbless character’s life using visual images, which I illustrated and compiled into a slender volume. As I worked, light began to drip from my heart and into my world. I used it to power every inch of illustration until I had developed my first masterpiece.

When I shared my creation with my family, they all celebrated my creativity with enthusiasm. But they didn’t stop there. They actively encouraged me to continue being creative by blessing me with supplies and tools to hone my every-developing craft. I provided with mountains of blank paper, miles of gloriously shiny tape, oodles of empty boxes, and even fingernail polish to use as paint. And I enjoyed all of this from one of several spots in our home dedicated specifically to the life creativity constantly pushed forward by this same sweet light.

Then, during a moment of creativity, the light began to pour from my heart and pulse through my entire body. When I looked to see where the light would culminate, I saw millions of particles flowing quickly and gathering within the veins of a pair of strong new wings. My wings. As they slowly unfurled, I realized that I was capable of things which I couldn’t have even imagined on my own.

But flying is scary. The gift of flight automatically offers the potential of falling. I tremebled at the sight of the wings as they shuttered with pulchritude. Rather than spreading them, I folded them and sat on them. I passed decades in this position. Sometimes, the I felt them beneath me, other times, I wondered if they would even work anymore.

And that’s how I’ve lived my life.

Until now.

Decades of sitting on my wings has become too much for me. They are unfurling. And you have a front row seat.

You get to see me lift off!