Map

My sense of direction is terrible.

And so I would forever be getting lost.

One day, when I was little, my oldest sister sat me down and told me-

"Jimmy, love, why don’t you draw maps of the places you are going to go?
Then you wouldn’t get lost all the time!"

Well.

I was stunned. What a simple and fantastic way to prevent being a lost boy!

So whenever I would venture out to somewhere new.

A place unknown.

To have my adventures….

(Like to the shops or "the garages"-where-the-cool-kids-were)

…I would draw a little map, with a little me
and a little route of how to get to where I wanted to go.

I’d clutch this colourful and highly detailed drawing
(I’d have ALL the bins and even get our cat Smudge on there too)
so tight within my fingers that my pokey knuckles would turn so white.

This map wasn’t a map. It was my talisman. My saviour. My truth.

It’d calm me down, like a warm and complete and sudden hug
from one of my big sisters or brother.

I don’t need to draw little maps as much anymore.

But I’ve always kept the ones I made.

A nice box of safe keepers. A box of hugs.

Something to calm me down.

So just in case, when I’m on an adventure,

I won’t get lost on the way.

Tree

Another birthday in my rediculously massive family. So another brilliant excuse to MAKE me finish something, and here it is.

Happy.
Birthday.
Han.