Our Dreams Never Really Leave Us
When I was in elementary school, I always looked forward to the annual book fair. Weeks before the big day, I would receive a catalog printed on thin newsprint paper. The catalog showed a tiny picture of each book, along with a little description for each. I remember pouring over that catalog, deciding which books I wanted, then carefully filling out the order form to place in the envelope, along with a check from my parents. This was one of the few indulgences my parents encouraged. After all, books were educational and didn’t cost much.
While I don’t remember most of the books I purchased during those years, there is one that I still have on a bookshelf in my bedroom.
Draw Yourself a Zoo by Jerry Warshaw is a dog-eared, well-worn relic that I rescued from the piles of forgotten treasures in my dad’s storage unit after his stroke in 2008. At that time, I didn’t think of myself as an artist or creative. Yet there was something enchanting about finding the book among all those forgotten things. Looking back now, I can see the glimmer of hope attached to the book that I wanted to hold onto.
To this day, I can still feel the anxious anticipation as I waited for the book to arrive. Sitting at the kitchen table, pencil in hand, choosing the first animal to try. And, the disappointment and frustration of my 8-year old self when my efforts didn’t produce animals like the ones in the book. I was convinced I couldn't draw and I didn't know that what I really needed was practice.
Little did I know that I'd find my way back to art and drawing late in life and this book would play a small role on the journey.
When I started doodling and drawing in my 40s, the books I found at the bookstore felt so complicated. I just wanted to learn some basic skills. Yet, most of the books began with a complete list of drawing tools that I didn’t have, then dove right into drawing and shading an egg or a walnut in perfect 3D.
It wasn’t until a few months into my journey, when I unearthed Draw Yourself a Zoo among my cherished memorabilia, that I realized what I needed. My drawing skills weren’t those of an adult, but of a child. I needed to go back to the beginning. So I played with the techniques in the book and learned more about constructing animals with basic shapes. I’ll admit, it was a little embarrassing to work with a children’s book on drawing. But it helped simplify the process and made other drawing and doodling books easier to understand.
I’m grateful Draw Yourself a Zoo survived all of these years and kept that glimmer of hope alive in my life, long after I thought I’d given up. That’s why I’ve given it a spot on my bookshelf, rather than a space in a box in my closet.
It’s one of the many ways I’m reminded that our deepest dreams never really leave us. Instead, they wait patiently for us to discover them, again and again and again.
I wonder what dreams are still waiting for you? What will you do to answer them, this week and beyond?