In the middle of something, I would all of a sudden stop, and feel it grow. At first a tiny smile, then a big one. A little chuckle, then a full fledged laughter. This is me when I am dreaming of something wonderful:  Of finally visiting China, or finally getting my own little cell to call the Jane-zone. Where I plan to decorate as best as I can, host little crazy dance parties of one when the wind howls, or when the heavens cry, read poetry to the walls and hide in lace curtains. Please don’t say roommate, I will wail like a banshee.

As a child, most of my time was spent day dreaming. One year, I spent the whole time day dreaming of two children who came out of nowhere and lived in a huge bubble home right in the middle of the dusty little road I walked to school. Only I could see them and, of course, their parents were on a different planet so they could do whatever they wanted. I was the only one invited to play with them and it was so much fun. 

When I started reading Harry Potter, I thought I saw the pictures in my house move. I always found myself surprised that there weren’t any floating candles when I looked up. I wanted to wear only black gowns, fly on broomsticks, and be loved by Dumbledore as much as I loved him. Naturally, when he died recently, I cried for weeks. It is such a sad thing that Dumbledore had to die. But he lives on, in a different world. That is a relief.

I have nothing but dreams. It is to see these dreams live that pushes me. Would they be what I envisioned?  Better or less? Would I ever stand in front of a room full of students and help them into the sphere of starving artists? Would I find myself someday in the streets of Paris hearing French spoken by everyone? Would Mawusi grow and pay the rent? Oh, how exciting that would be! To think I create on an ironing board now and that I could possibly have a craft room someday! You should see my face right now. I am beaming.

As sure as I am that I don’t know tomorrow, I am certain that dreams do breathe. The question is will mine? And if so when? Perhaps if I do all that I possibly can, I would meet them someday and I could finally say, “OMG, we’ve finally met!” It’d be like meeting a wonderful pen pal for the first time——Anonymous, if you are reading this, I just thought of you. 😉

I don’t mind that I am yet to know these things that I hope to experience; these things that I crave to witness——most of the time, that is.  It is my belief that once a dream pours out into reality another must be birthed to keep one going. It is a never ending circle. Hence there’s no need to rush. Yes, there is that thing with time, but there is nothing one can do about that. If I never make it to Amsterdam, it will be alright. As long as I did everything I possibly could to get there and didn’t make it.

Yes, there are times when I very passionately wish that all my delicious dreams could be savored right away! It is such an agony at these moments . . . “Why can’t it be now?” It is to God I address my anguish. And it feels like She is the one who calms me down. For my thinking then suggests I may not be ready. That now is not terrible. That now was once a dream, too. So patience takes my hand again.

It is my dreams that encourage me to have fun with the things I love and make me too lazy to bother with things that I don’t give a farting cow about. To be true to these dreams for as long as possible and to see where they would lead is something worth living for.

These dreams feel like arrows on my path to tomorrow. Of course, I wake up every now and then thinking, where would I be if Mother couldn’t pay the rent anymore? It is not fair for her to be paying the rent when I have a freaking college degree; I am all very matured at 26, after all, and my mates are getting married and having babies for cow sake! (I love cows.) It’s past time I grow up and suffer like every miserable grown-up I have met. Then I start crocheting and I feel like there must be a reason why I am a crocheting-Jane. When I write, I know I ought to be a writing-Jane, and so it is also when I work on my images.

I do so hope that these interests that I give the majority of my time to, and chase like mad, will feed my body someday––they already feed my soul.

Happy Monday
—
J. A. Odartey