I'm not sure what it is, but there is something about that cute yellow bear and his friends that makes me smile.

As a child, I watched Winnie the Pooh a lot. I could relate to it. For me, my toys were all my friends. I imagined that at night, they came alive. I thought they took themselves off onto the farm behind my house each night to picnic and party. When I would wake in the morning and my bear was in a different position to how it was before I went to sleep, that worked as conclusive evidence.

So watching Winnie the Pooh fed into this idea. Christopher Robin would head out and play with his toys in 100 acre wood, just as I imagined I did with my own.

I remember when I lived in Tonbridge, my grandparents lived five minutes away. We used to walk there on a regular basis and part of the walk consisted of following this short path, surrounded by which was grass and trees. There was one tree in particular that, at the very bottom of the trunk, had a small triangle shaped crevice. I'm not sure whether it was because my mum told me, or if I imagined it myself, but I was convinced that Rabbit lived there. The excitement mounted every time we approached this part of the journey as there was a chance that we might bump into Rabbit. 

Of course, we never did. Sometimes I would knock on the tree, but sadly he never seemed to be home.

Winnie the Pooh made my childhood magical. It set my imagination loose and meant that I was never lonely, as I always had my stuffed animals for company.

That is probably why whenever I need to drag back my lacking inspiration, I search out an image from Winnie the Pooh and begin drawing. It takes me back to my childhood and fills me with happiness. This is something I want to share with future generations. Already, my two year old nephew loves Winnie the Pooh and his imagination is shining through.

Everyone should take a visit to 100 acre wood and share in the enchantment.