When I was little I wanted to be an artist when I grew up. A painter, to be specific. It was the clearest way I knew how to translate images and stories in my head into something I could see and touch. I always told myself that someday – when I was a real artist – I would finally be able to paint the perfect sunset. I tried a few times of course, but I just couldn’t get the textures, layers or nuances in each vivid shade. No matter. Someday I would get there. Well, that day still hasn’t come, but living in California and getting to see the most beautiful sunsets every day from the 5th Floor of my office building has certainly brought it to the forefront of my mind again.
Most of my favorite summers were spent away as summer camp. Singing dorky camp songs. Canoeing. Capture the flag. That one summer where I spent four weeks doing manual labor and it was called a “learning experience.” The best times were always had in the evenings. It was great to be able to see the stars and there’s something incredibly bonding about being in the middle of the woods at night. Campfires happened at night. Ghost stories. Fireflies. Bonding chats. Listening to your cabin-mates’ hilarious sleep talking.