Marie Landry has always been a daydreamer. She has created imaginary worlds for as long as she can remember, so it only seemed natural that she would become a writer. With a passion for words that started in early childhood, Marie has written a varied range of works, and has been freelance writing since 2009. She resides in Ontario, Canada, and most days you can find her writing, reading, blogging about writing and reading, listening to U2, or having grand adventures with her two precious nephews.
Daisy’s Story
by Marie Landry
Daisy Campbell, artist. That’s me. Sometimes it’s still hard to believe I’m living my dream. I’ll walk into a gallery in the big city and look at a painting that I created with my own two hands, and I have to double-check the nameplate underneath to make sure I’m not imagining things. But no matter how many times I pinch myself, I never wake up. This is my life. It’s better than any dream imaginable.
It was a hard decision to leave Toronto. People couldn’t understand why I’d leave the city–a place of culture, art, and opportunities–to move to a tiny town three hours away. But where other people saw opportunity, I saw a place that was smothering my creativity with its noise and light and pollution. Toronto is a city in perpetual motion, that never stops and never sleeps, and I found it stifling.
Moving to Riverview allowed me to be who I really am. People here accept me and I’m free to just be me, without pretending, without reigning in a spirit that wants to soar and run wild and explore. Still, Toronto has been very good to me; several galleries carry my artwork, and I have a few well-to-do clients who commission pieces on a regular basis. But it’s not home. It never really was.
Home: Toronto wasn’t it, but Emma was. Leaving her is my only regret. Sweet, precious Emma, my niece who was like a sister, a daughter, a best friend, all rolled into one package with beautiful brown eyes and unruly curls. I hated leaving her with Tilly; she may be my sister, but I’ve always seen her for who she truly is. Sometimes I’ve felt almost eaten alive with the guilt of leaving Emma, but I had to pursue my dreams, and I just couldn’t do that in the city, not if I wanted to keep my sanity intact.
Another dream is coming true for me this spring. Emma is coming to live with me here in Riverview. Even though we talk fairly often, it’s been so long since I’ve seen her. I know she’s changed–I can tell from our conversations, letters, and emails. I worry that Tilly has crushed her spirit with her demanding nature and impossibly high standards. I worry she won’t be the bright, curious, vivacious little girl she once was. But it gives me hope that after all these years, she’s taken me up on my offer to live with me.
Now, as I survey the bedroom that will be Emma’s–hardwood floor gleaming, pale lavender splotches from her freshly painted walls covering my overalls, a fragrant breeze from the open French doors teasing the loose hair around my face–I feel a sense of peace and almost overwhelming happiness.
No more living in this huge house alone. No more coming home to darkness and silence. Emma will be here to brighten the place, to brighten my life. Even if she has changed, I have to believe my Emma is still in there somewhere. I’ll do whatever I can to help draw her out and remember what I always told her when she was a little girl: life is an adventure, full of possibilities. And that adventure is usually better when it’s shared with someone you love.