A few years back as I was going through my things and packing boxes for yet another move, I came across an old progress book that was made when I was in kindergarden. It includes class activities, teacher reports, letter practice-sheets, and lots of art work. I’ve thumbed through this book on dozens of occasions over the years, but this occurrence offered a very different experience. One page in particular holds a prophetic self-portrait drawn in blue crayon. My hair sticking straight out away from my head as though one finger is knuckle deep in a light socket, no feet, a beak of a nose and a body with surprisingly accurate proportions. What struck me most was that I was holding a knife in one hand (or where one aught to have been). Initially this may be alarming for most to see in any 5yr old’s art work, and to be honest, it kind of gave me the willies, but for very different reasons than others’ I’m sure. At the time I was 2 years into my education as a Knifemaker, and looking at it makes me feel like one of those characters in the movies who’s destiny is predicted in some obscure ancient text. The difference being this is real and I’m the one drawing pictures of myself in 20 years, or as my kindergarden self would say, “Me when I grow up.” Here’s to childhood dreams!
“So, like a forgotten fire, a childhood can always flare up again within us.” ~Gaston Bachelard