“At LastIt's a perfect winter day.No wind. No Arctic freeze.Cloudless azure sky. A dayto fly.Snow drapes the mountain like ermine, fabulous feather-light powder coaxing meto fleethe confines of my room, bravethe mostly plowed roadup to the closest ski resort.To runfrom the cloying silenceconnected Mom and Dad,into encompassing stillnessfar awayfrom city dirt and noiseFar above suburban gridlock.Far beyond the grasp of home.”

“Perfection is perception..my perception views I'm perfect.. perfect to achieve the best of my abilities..my abilities shoot high above the sky beyond the rainbow”

“Winter came and the city [Chicago] turned monochrome -- black trees against gray sky above white earth. Night now fell in midafternoon, especially when the snowstorms rolled in, boundless prairie storms that set the sky close to the ground, the city lights reflected against the clouds”

“My family never went skiing. My dad was afraid of heights and my mom felt that a vacation was only a vacation if it involved reading at least two books on the beach.”

“Colors shift like smoke within the branch beneath our feet. Sprites jump from leaf to leaf, leaving sprinklings of glittery dust in the air behind them. Droplets of water are strung like pearls from the silver strands of a spider’s web. Bluebottle glow-bugs stick to the leaves and branches, lighting up the night with their blue-green bodies. And high above us, clouds are draped like sashes of color across the sky. Amethyst, azure, jade.”

“Morning. Strawberry sky dusted with white winter powder sugar sun. And nobody to munch on it with”