I stood on a cliff by the sea, once.
It was a time in March, and I stood next to the edge, looking out at the ocean.
I could look out at the ocean forever.
It felt infinite and expansive yet there was more land on the other side, and somehow that was important.
Because I could feel someone there, or maybe then, on the other side—see her as my imagination expanded across this ocean between
There is an ocean between me, she writes, not knowing if
these words give her life or a life of their own or if it
remains a thought unsung,
the imagined memory of an alternate future past
with the passing of the tide,
which only exist s there, or maybe then.
A child playing…
(This is me, Olivia)
and feel, in myself,
the memory of some character from a story that I don’t think exists,
who was, perhaps, myself
—as a child,
as the thought of a song,
as a wish,
carried by a dandelion seed...
Why do I feel my imagination by the sea as something waking within me?
Something ancient,
like memories
echoing out of a seashell...
(These are also me)
I'm someone who grew up with story. A being for whom narrative served as both world and frame, both method for being and mediator with reality. Someone, or something, quite like a character from a story by the sea, looking out at the ocean (or somewhere in between).
I think a lot about the stories I grew up with and how these stories have reflected, influenced, shaped and reinforced my sense of what's possible in the "real" world. This makes me think of the stories I wish I had growing up and the stories I want to help create for generations in the future.
So, with an intense thoughtfulness, playful curiosity, and poetic sensibility, I wander across and between roles and realms, helping others:
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Cultivate their awareness of where/when imagination and stories influence their beliefs and behaviors
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(Re)develop skills and confidence with imagination and storytelling
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Co-create experiences that nurture wonder, expand potential and bring regenerative systems to life.
As a writer, experience designer, and imaginative leader, my works have been described as "the bedtime stories that we forgot to tell" and reflect a kind of storytelling that is at once nostalgic and imaginative, critical and questioning.
