Play takes crayons and decides to write a book.

The sound of play and my 4th book in the making.

Throughout his life, Albert Einstein would retain the intuition and the awe of a child. He never lost his sense of wonder at the magic of nature's phenomena-magnetic fields, gravity, inertia, acceleration, light beams-which grown-ups find so commonplace. He retained the ability to hold two thoughts in his mind simultaneously, to be puzzled when they conflicted, and to marvel when he could smell an underlying unity. "People like you and me never grow old," he wrote to a friend later in life. "We never cease to stand like curious children before the great mystery into which we were born”.

—Walter Isaacson

Play is not about objectives.

Play is experimental.

Play over-rides fear and imposter syndrome with a tangible honesty of expression.

It breaks the rules of etiquette, not with rebellious intention, but gleefully with innocent unknowing.

It is spacious and true beyond definition.

Play takes instinct and gives it fields, it unknowingly dances across rules and walks through doors unaware that it was not welcome.

Play takes crayons and decides to write a book.

I have been reflecting upon the beginning and early forming of my very first book. My heart feels incredibly soft towards this era and version of myself—

To revert back allows me to capture something unguarded, something infantine, something playful within me that uninhibitedly believed that I could use words in the same way I used a paint brush—

to write an entire book,

unqualified,

but not just write it,

publish it too…