I imagined walking home from visiting a friend. My dream is to live in France because I enjoy the culture and language. I want to be a French major. So, I’m walking home in the streets of a French city (doesn’t necessarily have to be the cliché thought of Paris) and I’m heading to my apartment which is next to a baguette bakery. And before my walk home, I probably caught up with my French friend, Thomas, which is pronounced (Toe-mah), at a café or at the graduate school I’m attending. And I had a precious time with him. Right now the weather is not too bad. It’s 70 degrees and it’s semi-quiet in the streets, quiet enough for me to notice the evening shadows on the sidewalk. One of the shadows are my own and the other shadows are of things around me such as the tree’s hanging branches and the maroon lamp post. But these shadows on the concrete come together and make such a painting of shapes, curves, and sizes that it doesn’t look like the tree, the lamppost, or myself is even there anymore. It’s some sort of collage and figure of imagination all at once. And I find myself feeling grateful to be a part of this art because I love my life, and there is so much magic in the universe. I want to explore, taste, and become THE MAGIC.