I grew up invisible in Salt Lake City, Utah. Invisibility has definite advantages, especially when combined with a vivid imagination. I spent my youth on a raft floating down the Mississippi with my friends Tom, Huck, and Jim. I stood next to George and his rag-tag troops in Valley Forge. I chased windmills with Don Quixote. I spent summers in Europe, winters in Alaska. Anywhere my imagination could take me. I created magical, fantasy worlds with magical inhabitants.
Time does not stand still. Fantasy worlds evolve into mundane, everyday life. As I grew older my whimsical travels to far off places diminished and my invisibility slowly faded into visibility. All foolish realms were forgotten, pushed into the furthest regions of my mind. I grew up, but a small part of my mind, the part stuffed to overflowing with imaginary worlds, refused to get older. I must have a Peter Pan soul.
Years passed. One failed marriage became two. I found and married my one true love and began my happily ever after. Happiness has certain side effects, my creativity yearned to shine. The imaginary world refused to be silenced; they demanded to be heard.