A backpack, a Bible, a coloring book, a journal and a list

Part three - a coloring book

With only a week separating me from putting the contents of this small pile into my backpack and heading out of the country, my mind is consumed with the seemingly mile long to-do list that has yet to be completed. What does any mature college student do in times such as these? Buy a coloring book.

Sitting amongst the pile beside my dusty blue backpack is an Alice in Wonderland coloring book. Ever since the Tim Burton version of the Disney classic came out, this literature-turned-into-cinema lover has discovered a newfound appreciation for the timeless tale of adventure and mystery.

When the film came out, my anticipation was through the roof. It came out on March 5th, and I waited patiently to enjoy the film the next day, on my 18th birthday with my sister.  Tim Burton and Johnny Depp helped me to celebrate my special day by gracing the silver screen with their cinematic masterpiece.

(Watching a remake of a childhood classic is a perfectly acceptable manner of ringing in adulthood by the way).

Ever since that time I have had a lingering attachment to all things related to the land of futterwaken, Underland (read the book or watch the movie, Alice mistakenly called it Wonderland and Disney just went with it for the cartoon version).

So while wandering the isles of a dollar store in search of poster board, I spotted the coloring book. Bypassing any degree of hesitation (due to mental promises of escaping the lure of low prices and only buying what the trip was intended for) it was immediately snagged off the shelf.

Now it sits on the floor of my room and a has a purpose beyond that which it was originally intended for.

Sanity.

Little does Alice know, but her adventures will join me on my own. Not as inspiration to chase white rabbits and slay mythical beasts, but as an escape from the trials of three weeks away from home. Comfort comes in unique forms for everyone, and for this globe trotter (well, aspiring globe trotter that is) comfort comes as little reminders of innocence and joy, and in simple pleasures. So to whoever sits next to me on the plane, my apologies in advance if the light bothers you or if the sound of colored pencils scratching a page proves to be a nuisance.

Curiously,
Sarah Jane