I’m hopeful. Sometimes. Ok not so often these days, but it’s still there. As a kid, the hope was unwavering. I had gigantic, monumental, colossal dreams and not a shadow of a doubt; I blasted my boombox on my farm in Poland, listening to Ace of Base, Madonna’s Material Girl, Manaam and Black Box. My siblings were older so I played on my own a lot, letting my imagination and creativity do its thing unchecked. I took books into our apple and plum orchard and sat there on a blanket for hours, and if I got hungry I just reached over and grabbed a piece of fruit. I created my own world. I was the youngest, I was talented at everything artistic, I was a ball of creative energy. I was sensitive. I absorbed other people’s feelings. Some were heavy.
The image on the right was taken by Jamal Jameel and edited by Emily Lukasewski.