When you were a kid, did you ever find yourself building, what you thought at the time, the biggest, baddest, most awesome fort in the world? Be it out of carpets, boxes, books, we would do anything just to built that fort of ours. It was a place we could call our own. This fort was ours, and it was going to take a whole army, or a pet, to come and destroy it. But why did we do this as a kid? Were we bored? Did we just want to play? I never really new until this last week.
I've found myself hanging out in, what we call, The Cavern. A small little space in my room, that has been converted from a walk in closet, to a little lounge big enough for just about two people to sit, chill, inhale and talk. As seedy as the picture looks, it really is quite comfy.
Yesterday, as I found myself in there again, I asked, what was it about this tiny space, that made it so inviting. And then I figured it out. This was my fort. I never really had my own fort as a kid, simply because I was working. Literally working. Holding down acting jobs when I was 6 or 7, meant there was little time to play or have fun with friends. So almost twenty years later, I got to experience my own fort. It may sound silly, but it means something to me.
This is my second child hood. The child hood I never go.