About Me

My photo
I write novels for teens and adults. Visit me here & on my website http://www.jenniferarcher.net

Tuesday, May 05, 2009

Dream-drapery


This photo was taken in March as the plane my husband, Jeff, and I were on left Mexico. When I looked out of the window at the clouds all around us, I was taken back to my childhood...

As a kid, I indulged in quite a lot of daydreaming and make-believe. More than one teacher told me to get my "head out of the clouds." Flights of fancy are considered by most people -- especially adults -- to be a waste of time, but I don't think that's necessarily true. Sure, I should've paid attention during class instead of gazing out the window and making up stories. I should've reined-in my imagination until the last bell rang. But a lot of young daydreamers grow up and make a career out of escaping into their imaginations, and I'm one of them. I get paid for doing the very thing that used to get me into trouble. It's my job to spend hours every day with my head in the clouds! How cool is that? How lucky can a girl be? I am so grateful and amazed sometimes that I feel as if I need to pinch myself. Laboring in the land of make-believe hasn't made me rich, but there's no place I'd rather spend my days. I mean, I tried reality once and it just didn't work for me. ;-)

Think about that the next time you're tempted to pull some kid back to earth, because let me tell you -- my office is a pretty great place to work. (Note, once more, the new background photo of this blog) Pretty gorgeous color-scheme, huh? The furniture is so comfortable I feel like I'm sitting on a feather, and the curtains are soft and billowy. Oh, and did I mention that the air-conditioning always carries the scent of rain?

Clouds are a writer's "dream-drapery," the source of stories, of poetry and music and possibilities. Keep your head in the clouds and dream on, all you dreamers...

Low-Anchored Cloud
by Henry David Thoreau

Low-anchored cloud,
Newfoundland air,
Fountain-head and source of rivers,
Dew-cloth, dream-drapery,
And napkin spread by fays;
Drifting meadow of the air,
Where bloom the daisied banks and violets,
And in whose fenny labyrinth
The bittern booms and heron wades;
Spirit of lakes and seas and rivers,
Bear only perfumes and the scent
Of healing herbs to just men's fields!


Happy Reading,

Jenny

Jennifer Archer's website