
Call me an eternal daydreamer. It is the truth. I have always been a daydreamer and always will be. It is not that my life is so sad that my daydreams are needed as an escape from reality. All in all I have a good life, loving family, amazing friends, and good health. I also have an unbelievable imagination that fuels my daydreams and at times, is larger than life. But it is also this imagination that helps me to create my art, to see treasures in trash, to see weathered worn faces in gnarled knots of the oak tree outside my window, or scenes of absolute beauty in the cloud formations above. Okay perhaps my daydreaming is an escape from reality, however, not that I am in hiding, but rather I bring back to my real life something beautiful and joyful from my dreams. Think of my daydreams as artistic embellishments to my life. After all, how can one be creative, and not daydream?
I used to hate bringing home my quarterly report cards, not that my grades were bad ... I was an A student with the occasional B in math. (I don't think that creative people do well in math). On the back of the card were blank spaces for the teacher's comments. Every time, every quarter, every year until high school, it was the same thing "Sherrie does well on her schoolwork and tests; however, she spends too much time daydreaming in class." By the way, it wasn't that I stopped daydreaming in high school, the report cards then stopped including a comment section. Mom would be annoyed, if not mad, and Dad would just chuckle and say "That's my girl". Dad was a daydreamer too, although for him, it was more of an escape from a very hard life.
