when I was ten

When I was ten I doodled on every paper I could find. I wrote stories in messy journals, made mini booklets on everything my ten-year old mind could muster up. I played my recorder to my heart's content, loving the tunes I would play out of my imagination. My eyes and heart were always fixated in a book, finding out new and captivating words I could use in my next sentence.    

When I was twelve I discovered the magic you get when butter, sugar, and chocolate are combined. Baking became my first choice of relaxation. I sketched cartoons on cream coloured paper, writing stories in the form of cartoon fashion divas. My recorder molded into the alto saxophone. Music made me tick, gave me joy, and brightened my twelve year old heart.

When I was fourteen my nails were never to be lacking in a fresh coat of shiny polish. I would write children's stories and give them to my parents for Christmas. I spent hours in my room colouring each page and bringing life to the story being told. I started asking bigger questions. Like, why am I the way I am? Who exactly am I, and is who I am okay? How do you know anyways? Fourteen was a tearful age, yet not a bad age. It was a hill that needed climbing over. It was full of many bite-sized chocolates (coffee crisps to be specific), awkward crushes and continuous doodling.

When I was sixteen I joined the school choir. Twice a week the voices of sixty people alongside my own lifted my spirits and brought a lot of joy to life. I quickly became the primary user of Mom's camera, snapping pictures of flowers and new baking adventures. I fell in love with classic literature, beginning with Jane Austen. I discovered that it's a good thing to be picky, to guard your heart, and to forgive. I decided to invest time into excelling at school, and in the process fell in love with learning.

Right now I am eighteen. I still bake, eat bite-sized coffee crisps (although a box of Purdy's hits the spot really nicely), dive deep into Jane Austen whenever I have a moment, and scribble into  journals. Listening to classical violin and piano music makes up for over a year of no saxophone playing, but the itch to pick it up again remains. I love to drink tea while studying, to photograph something wonderful, and to laugh with fellow humans.
These years, people; these are molding years.