I spent most of my childhood dying to grow up. I was eager to do serious things and think deep thoughts and read grown-up books and join in the adult conversations I sat silently rapt through. And I wanted to settle down. We moved so often and I dreamed and dreamed of finding one perfect house and living there for the rest of my life.
And I remember the hard parts too. Sometimes I still even cry about them. But, I do have some perfect mental snapshots of being little: Lying on my bed reading books. Chatting away to dolls, the fairies in my wallpaper, the mushrooms growing in the backyard (that's where the fairies live, don't you know). Sitting with table up to my armpits as I drew pictures of villages and farms and skies full of birds.
The world conjured in these photographs of this most perfect (and perfectly dressed) little girl unlocked my most unrestrained, optimistic and twinkling memories of being small. You know the best part? I still have moments when I feel like this, when I feel this unbridled and exultant a being-in-the-world. In fact, sometimes I feel more that than the grown-up me? Do you sometimes feel like the same little girl, or boy, you were then? Or are you all grown up now?
All images from liivia s' photostream.