This is not nostalgia. It’s ignition.

The Artist Pilgrim in Tuscany

Over the past several days, I’ve been pulling my images, my work, my story out of digital corners — Facebook, Flickr, Instagram — and bringing them home to Pinterest.

Pinterest has become my loom. Each image a thread. Each thread a part of a story that has been waiting to be seen whole.

As I gather them, something stirs.
A sleeping part of me sits up.
This is what it means to re-member:
to wake from the enchanted sleep of forgetfulness
and feel the pulse of our own myth again.

This isn’t just my awakening.
My re-membering is yours, too.
It belongs to all of us who have forgotten our own magnificence,
who have allowed the misty amnesia of time to dull our edges.

This letter is the kiss —
the moment the spell breaks
and the body of your story wakes up again.

Not long ago, teenagers spent their afternoons building treehouses or Lego starships.
Now, many of them build worlds in cyberspace on borrowed laptops — transforming scattered bits of code and vision into new abundance.

That image has been echoing in me lately. Because in my own way, I’m doing something similar right now:
spreading out the puzzle pieces of my pilgrimage on Pinterest like a map on a coffee table.

And as the pieces come together, so does the narrative arc of my life.
Once the story is visible, the future stops hovering at the horizon.
It starts humming like a finely tuned engine, ready to run.

If this sparked off something that is awakening in you perhaps we should work together. If that sound good go over hear