Don't Stop Believin' Print

My family went to Mexico to see the whales. I used a photo from our expedition as reference for this painting. But the biggest chunk of our time on that vacation was spent at the pool.

My family were the only humans south of sixty. Our older neighbors were oblivious to the world of fantasy happening right in front of them. They seemed a little annoyed by the joyful noises bubbling forth from the pool.

Mind you, I couldn’t see everything that clearly – Adultitis has dimmed my imagination more than I’d care to admit – but I could see well enough to know that magic was happening in that pool. I witnessed an adventure, wrought with equal parts excitement and peril, and I smiled as I wondered how magnificent it must be.

That it appeared to be invisible made it no less real. Why do we stop believing in fantastic things? And why do our wide eyes grow so dim with age? Shouldn’t they be even wider, for an old person has been privileged to observe an avalanche of wonders.

I could have sworn that a giant humpback whale lept right out of that very pool. Don’t ask the grumps around the pool to fact check my story. I’m certain they missed the whole thing. Too riddled with Adultitis, no doubt. As I said, it has its grip on me, too. But I’m still fighting. I plan to fight it all the days of my life. I hope I never stop believing.