Take a moment and think back to when you were a kid.  How much time did you spend out-of-doors?  If you were like me, the answer is “a lot!”  And, although I grew up in a Colorado suburb, we always had a yard and a neighborhood and, as I got older, various parks and edges around town to explore and spend time in.  I still remember reluctantly being called into the house, long after dark, on many hot summer evenings longing to remain outside.

On a day set aside for sentimental confessions, here is a semi-unprofessional confession from the Arts desk: I tend to fall a little bit in love with the artists I interview. Not in a romantic or physical sense, but in the sense of being drawn to the inner fire that feeds their artistic passion. Gender, age, marital status – none of that really matters. I am blown away on a regular basis by the things that people say and the way their minds work.

Something strange has happened — the real deadline for having a Wearable Art project done is 5 minutes before show time, yet I am already done. I even left the article in the possession of the model so she could practice in it — and so I couldn't change my mind or add to it. 

The town square used to be the place where the community came together.

That little patch of real estate where the derring-do’s of the past days were rehashed, where grandpas watched grandkids, where parents held hands, and vendors let you taste the wonders of the culinary world.

Much like the gymnasiums of old they were.

You could eat anything and say anything, as long as you kept it off the floor.

You could watch heroes save the day and many times those heroes were related to you or someone you knew or were someone you wanted to be like.