Wonderland past: A distant childhood memory of imagination, happy endings and always being the perfect height.
Wonderland present: An adult realization of real life – working hard, missing moments to dream and being the wrong size in the thighs & waist… ALL THE TIME!
I grew up wanting to be Alice, actually I think I want that more now than ever. I wanted to jump down a rabbit hole and tumble gently to a new realm of life. I wanted to speak to animals and inanimate objects that came to life in strangely captivating ways. I saw the world in different colors than most because I tried to find the fantasy under a rock, behind a tree, behind a coat in the corner closet. I’d always keep an eye and ear open just in case. I never wanted to miss my Alice opportunity.
Once, when I was about ten years old I wrote a book. It was a mere 10 pages. I did all the artwork myself. The story was about a special girl named Alice who had a quilt she made herself with a pair of pants sewn into them. At night when she’d go to bed, she would slide into the pants and the magic would begin. She’d start to fly to her Wonderland way up high in the clouds and see the world from up above. I don’t know what happened to that story but I do know it is a clear memory in my head still.
My Wonderland has become a dream of owning a farm house with rolling hills of land and a family that always puts one another above all others. My Wonderland would consist of gardens, dozens and dozens of dogs, lakes, dreams and a front porch swing. I hope everyone has their own Wonderland dream like I do. I think I’ll start my own Wonderland story again. Maybe I’ll even share it with my favorite three readers and you can escape with me through my created Wonderland.