Through the looking glass

Dreams are often only in the eye of the beholder, but if that eye is keen enough, brilliant enough, thorough enough, need it be any more?

The line that separates a wild Irish rose from the pathetic little bloom on a country fence is only in the passion of the voice, the lilt of the words, the vibrato of the notes.

The Afghan girl whose eyes haunted the world for decades led a life of poverty,  hard work and trials most of us cannot imagine.

Art does not mimic life. It elevates it. Focusing on one tiny freckle, convincing others it is the most amazing freckle ever.

Should we choose to do the same with our life could there not be a fairytale in the mundane comings and goings of each day's adventures?

Why not choose to live happily ever after rather than plodding perversely on?

Do not allow some magic mirror to destroy the beauty of your life.

Live the fairytale.