“What molting is to birds, the time when they change their feathers, that’s adversity or misfortune, hard times, for us human beings. One may remain in this period of molting one may also come out of it renewed.”
- Vincent Van Gogh
I remember growing up afraid. Barely tall enough to reach my bedroom door handle, I can recount nights when I would lay beneath the covers and scrunch myself up to a tiny ball to hide among my stuffed animals. Holding myself still and daring to breathe, I frantically recited my prayers in my head. Fear is a crippling emotion that never stops being my constant companion.
Through these years of loneliness and fear, my pencil served as my saving grace, and my bedroom was my sanctuary. I could always be found looking out the window and drawing the neighborhood children laughing and playing ¬- fascinated by their giggling faces and curious about what secrets their eyes had witnessed.
