"They spent the first three years of school getting you to pretend stuff
and then the rest of it marking you down if you did the same thing."
-- Margaret Atwood, Oryx and Crake
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| Butterfly on flowers (spray paint on paper with pipe cleaner stems) 3-7-14 |
"Leaving the world of reality behind
and disappearing into a world of make-believe and imaginations,
is a solace you get from nothing else."
-- Sanhita Baruah, Uff Ye Emotions
One of the things I'm most grateful for in life is that at the ripe old age of 46, I still have custody of my robust, little kid imagination.
Paper, paint and pipe cleaners may be the standard art supplies of preschools everywhere, but that shouldn't make them off limits to big kids.
So yesterday I built a little world with them and, using my camera as an imaginary portal, took a brief vacation there.
And even though the big round thermometer on the fence says it's 25 degrees outside, and even though the ground is still covered with snow and all the growing things are held captive by frost, inside my imagination it's sunny and warm, and the flowers are blooming and the butterflies are flitting.
I took this picture during my visit, just in case you don't believe me.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Which brings us the One Good Thing "Plea On Behalf of Imaginative Children Everywhere":
Please don't ever, ever, tell a child that they should stop pretending, or day-dreaming, or making-believe, or living in a fantasy world. Sure, children's imaginary lives are sometimes inconvenient for grownups to deal with. They can even be a little bit scary. But instead of fighting them, next time try spending the same amount of energy indulging them, or just leaving them the fuck alone. And for chrissakes please, pleeease, pleeeeeeease don't ever tell a child to be more like the other kids. Same old, same old children grow up to be same old, same old adults. And Lord knows the world has enough unimaginative, boring grown-up drones trudging around staring at their phones all damn day. Being a responsible grownup does not mean you can't still have an active, colorful imagination. It just makes being a responsible grownup so much more interesting and way more entertaining.
I once heard that children don't necessarily remember what you say to them, but they never forget how you make them feel. And if you make a child feel stupid, or flawed, or deficient, or pressured, or unacceptable, or unloved simply because you don't understand or won't understand their imaginary tendencies, then shame, shame on you.
Go ahead, spend your life like Sisyphus with your head down, eternally pushing a boulder up a hill. That's your boring choice.
As for me, when I exit this life, I'd rather go out like Icarus -- in a blinding flash, harnessed to a pair of homemade wings that I built out of art supplies, believing I might really touch the Sun.
So yesterday I built a little world with them and, using my camera as an imaginary portal, took a brief vacation there.
And even though the big round thermometer on the fence says it's 25 degrees outside, and even though the ground is still covered with snow and all the growing things are held captive by frost, inside my imagination it's sunny and warm, and the flowers are blooming and the butterflies are flitting.
I took this picture during my visit, just in case you don't believe me.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Which brings us the One Good Thing "Plea On Behalf of Imaginative Children Everywhere":
Please don't ever, ever, tell a child that they should stop pretending, or day-dreaming, or making-believe, or living in a fantasy world. Sure, children's imaginary lives are sometimes inconvenient for grownups to deal with. They can even be a little bit scary. But instead of fighting them, next time try spending the same amount of energy indulging them, or just leaving them the fuck alone. And for chrissakes please, pleeease, pleeeeeeease don't ever tell a child to be more like the other kids. Same old, same old children grow up to be same old, same old adults. And Lord knows the world has enough unimaginative, boring grown-up drones trudging around staring at their phones all damn day. Being a responsible grownup does not mean you can't still have an active, colorful imagination. It just makes being a responsible grownup so much more interesting and way more entertaining.
I once heard that children don't necessarily remember what you say to them, but they never forget how you make them feel. And if you make a child feel stupid, or flawed, or deficient, or pressured, or unacceptable, or unloved simply because you don't understand or won't understand their imaginary tendencies, then shame, shame on you.
Go ahead, spend your life like Sisyphus with your head down, eternally pushing a boulder up a hill. That's your boring choice.
As for me, when I exit this life, I'd rather go out like Icarus -- in a blinding flash, harnessed to a pair of homemade wings that I built out of art supplies, believing I might really touch the Sun.
