When I was little, I had sticky fingers. In 3rd grade, I stole a blue bunny eraser from a classmate’s desk while she was out sick for three months with mono. (I know. Stealing from a sick kid.) Around that time, I attended a party with my parents. I decided to “relieve” the hosts of the very heavy weight in their piggy bank. I stuck all the coins in my hollowed out Pumba toy and tried to sneak it into my room under the pretense of “praying to Jesus”. Until I tripped, Pumba fell, and all that metallic sin spilled onto the ground.
I had to write an apology note.
I hadn’t stolen something since (well, things from family members and best friends don’t count). Until this past weekend.
We were driving back from attending talk-back by an artist in the mountains (more on that in a later post) when I spotted a polo party. Neon lights. Party bus. The works.
And pointing the way? 5 shining, silver glitter arrows.
And I knew. One of those arrows. Was. Mine.
I jumped out of the car, grabbed the arrow, shoved it into our trunk right in front of the polo peeps, and we peeled away like the hyped-up little speed demons we aren’t.
Here it is in all its glitter glory:
I plan to hang it on the wall, right above where it’s propped up now. It will always remind me of a time I acted spontaneous and got something sparkly. It will always remind me of a time I acted bold and got something glittery. It will always remind me of a time I took a risk and won.
Right there next to the sign? See that blurred brown thing? That’s my writing desk. It’s old. It’s falling apart. It’s need more than a little TLC. But there, I create.
When I sit at my desk from now on, I’ll be reminded to be spontaneous, to be bold, and to take a risk. Hopefully, whatever project I’m working on will have that extra shiny sliver glitter because of it :)