Carving Castles

I have never given my parents enough credit for encouraging my creativity.

When I was four years old, my father was sent to Greenland for a remote assignment that didn't allow for our family to join him.  For that year, my mother, soon-to-be-born brother, and I lived in a cozy two-room house on Chester Levee Rd.  It's amazing what I remember from that time in my life...a time with very little sadness.

Every month a package would arrive from Greenland filled with ceramic images that my father had created during his spare time.  I recall helping my mother tear into the boxes and pulling out endless amounts of figurines.  But, that's not what sparked my excitement.  What I couldn't wait to get my hands on were the blocks of Styrofoam that my father used to cushion the contents.  For days I would use a plastic knife and carve windows and doors, motes and towers, stalls and stables.  I was in Styrofoam Heaven.

For what it's worth, thank you, Dad, for those monthly packages, and thank you, Mom, for giving me the freedom to create, build, destroy, rebuild, and carve castles.