"Genius is childhood recalled at will." - Pierre Charles Baudelaire
I found this picture from a set of old slides my grandfather has been copying with his new toy. It's from the summer of '88 at Lake Lure. When I look at it I can't help but smile at the beauty of childhood (yes, that is indeed me at the ripe old age of 2). In my writing practice I've been slowly mounting a discovery of sorts pertaining to inspiration, originality, and writing from the world of dreams. I'm discovering that not only do I have to silence my internal ciritic and find a way to slip past my overzelous intellect, but I also need to embrace my childlike perception that I keep trying to leave behind. Some of my favorite pieces have come from moments where I sat down just let the nonesense flow. So maybe Baudelaire had a point there, when we embrace the child whithin ourselves amazing things can happen.
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