As I mentioned yesterday on Facebook, I found an old picture of myself all decked out for a heritage talk. I found it as I was cleaning out stuff in the back bedroom. Through the years, all kinds of things have accumulated. In fact, I was happily surprised to find a few things I had completely forgotten about. Art things, writing things, pictures, stories, poems.
Throughout life, we go through eras, don’t you think? There are romanticized, unrealistic but thoroughly pleasant eras, then realism which is when we start to grow up a little, then raising-our-families-and-working-hard-ism, etc. 
Probably your eras are somewhat different from mine. I must be in a nostalgic period now plus a mysterious one, of course, as becomes writers of mystery.
Paintings and poetry are expressions of thoughts and feelings that we might not be able to speak out loud. Can you imagine how difficult it would be to talk in rhyme? “Are you going shopping or are you going garage hopping?” “Please stop running in the house; you’re somewhat heavier than a mouse.” “I am going to drive my car but don’t worry, I won’t go far.” Anyway, it would be clumsy.
I think of eras as subdivisions of seasons of life. We go through spring, summer, fall and winter seasons and within those times, we certainly feel different things or maybe repeats of what has gone before.
Before I wax philosophical, may I say I hope you have had more happy times than sad and perhaps you have brought some of those feelings and experiences, those eras, right along with you in whatever season you are now. After all, romance never waxes old, does it?
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