Beneath the Surface


When I look at my life as an outsider would, I see that it looks rather boring.



The fact of the matter is, I am not a genius

An athlete

A prodigy

Or even truly talented in anything.

I am unassuming

A Plain Jane, if you will.

But when I pick up a pen

Or begin to type

I feel a change within me

Not just a change in my mind

But a release of my soul

And suddenly I'm not holding a pen

It's a sword

A paintbrush

An instrument

My own heart

And what happens



I'm not writing

I'm travelling between times

And worlds

I am standing alongside Joan of Arc, preparing for battle

I am swimming in a sea, watching fish and mermen swim by

I am flying through a bank of clouds shot through with baby pink, astride an iridescent gold dragon

I am in Vienna dressed in a lavish gown, watching a young Mozart perform for the Emperor

I am no longer plain old Paige

I am Melody

I am Amelia

I am Vera

When I write, I don't just create words

I paint

I soar

I dance








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