As a little boy, I had these secret places I felt safe, where I could be free, where I could open up my heart and my imagination and play, just in my head, or maybe with a pencil and paper, or a camera, or some precious possession that I dared not take out elsewhere. I'd escape to these secret havens and just be by myself, for hours, at peace. Freedom felt like wings.
Now, as a man, some of those places no longer exist. And when found, even more precious than it was then. I feel want to hide there, tell no one, keep it secret, but in tension and contrast with that fear of exposure to danger is my desire to share the most precious thing I have with someone who is worth it, to risk it all to explore that place together, knowing nothing is safe, but choosing, just for this moment, to forget that, and to find freedom everywhere.