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Veronica Varlow
  -  Dirty. Glamour. Realness. Life in NYC.   -  An Open Love Letter

Today is the anniversary of the day I met this one:

At 5am, I was standing in front of our school, leaning against a column, waiting to be picked up by a van to do a student film.  A van finally pulled up….

he stepped out….

and the sky was burning orange with the rising of the sun.

My life was never the same again.



This morning, all of these years later, I heard the wind moving a bell outside.

I opened my eyes and saw

the sky burning orange with the rising of the sun

and his fingers were laced with my fingers

as he lay beside me in bed.

He is a storyteller of finely crafted words,

weaving finely crafted worlds.

He changed my existence with his imagination.

Years ago, he saw me far better than I saw myself.  He took pictures of me.  And I started to see myself through his eyes.

He helped breathe life into that imagined higher form of myself….

until she became real.

We are imagination junkies.

Would you like to get your fix with us?

It’s easy.  A two step process……

1.  Dream the wildest dreams possible in your mind.  Tell each other wild stories of who you are in the future.  Whisper gorgeous, full, detailed epics of great deeds and great adventures to each other.  Do this until you and that other person actually believes that this wild dream person of you exists.    Repeat nightly.

2.  Let those wildest dreams possible creep into your actual world.  They will.  Trust me.  If you keep telling each other these stories, you will start to notice bits and pieces of your “imagination life” showing up in your real life…..until your whole life becomes the thing you dreamed of.  Until your whole dream becomes your life.

Burke wrote mine with me, because he was able to dream bigger for me than I was able to.

He is a born storyteller.

In the Grand Halls of Story in the Universe, there is a pen shaped to fit his hand.

He tells his stories, sometimes in words, sometimes in pictures.

He just did this…..

And I cried when I watched him do it.  I cried because he is the most “him” when he is directing.  He is the most “him” when he is telling stories.

Years ago, we wrote side by side as the world was falling apart around us.  We wrote in a cramped little room with a sliver of a window out to the city.  We would take turns at the keyboard… composing our story together.  I would start, then he would craft.  He would work the magic that he has with the rapid clicking of his fingers hitting the keys…..

We finished the story, sitting side by side on the wooden floor, in our little cottage… as the snow was falling outside around us.  We bled on those pages.  The wild imaginations of ourselves and their adventures were made real.

That beloved cottage that we finished our story in burned to the ground.

And we were left with nothing but our story.

And each other.

And this……

And that will turn into something even bigger, something even wilder with all of your imaginations combined on March 4, 2013 when we put out the call to the greatness of crowd funding.   Because we need all of your imaginations to make it real – that’s how big it is.

But that’s a little bit into the future, and right now…. today…. is the anniversary of when a boy stepped out of a van, and met a girl leaning against a column at school….

and the sky burned orange with the brightness of the rising sun.

And they wrote their life stories together, whispered them, dreamed them, wished them, lived them, loved them and exploded them into a million shining stars in the sky.

Thank you, Burke Heffner, for dancing with me once again in this lifetime….



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