Imagination

ALL CHANNELS ARE BLOCKED BY POPULAR GURU-ISM

Photo by Belinda Fewings on Unsplash

So here we are , already victims of a profound lack of imagination as we are on a chronic overload of canned information. The philosophies and battles of global and local politics which seep into the caverns of the mind. Other people and their minds. I would prefer to lie on grass and gaze up at the blue sky and think of nothing at all until something new and wild flits through the mind. Then i fly with this and simply imagine silly, nonsensical or daring scenarios. Like pirates sailing a boat with a skull and bones flag and landing in Toronto harbour. Women with tresses of beautiful hair in silken dresses ruffled by the wind clinging to the pirates. Or to wake up one morning and see a city painted in one colour. Marrakech in Morocco is constructed in terra-cotta stucco. Restaurants which float on the water and do not sit on land. Thailand has done this. Canada and the US seem to be incapable of any acts of brilliant imagination. All is demolished to usher in our user friendly urban chic and yet the spirit longs for romance of the senses.

Thinking within the box or outside of it even artists seem to follow a grid. The rare exception is the film Director David Cronenberg in his film ‘Crimes of the future’. See it please and prepare to be dazzled. Really if our organs did not rest inside the body but outside?. Could brilliant Philosophers hold a forum each Sunday in the grounds of National Monuments. One long rambling lecture on why they got out of bed that morning. No microphones whatsoever. Drones which children could fly and land on spots of their choosing? The Zoo or skyscrapers? Must there be window displays in shops. How about walking in without having a clue what the merchandise would be.? Grocery stores with a cooking and eating section. Buy your steak and cook it and then eat it. No salad bars with suspect vegetables or lentils drenched in sauces nobody really cares for. No hot pots or air fryers. A row of cast iron frying pans instead with wooden spatulas to stir . Perfume counters that let you spray the mood of the day for five bucks.? Why ever not?

Elections coming down the pike everywhere. How about six month renewable terms for head of States. Prime Ministers and Presidents to be changed every six months by the top candidates they beat. Let the large sums of money collected go to food banks. A crazed Indian millionaire recently paid mind boggling sums of money to people in the west to attend the wedding parties. of his obese and somewhat developmentally challenged son. It was not an A list but the money was paid to them. Meanwhile India’s starving people did not make the wedding list. An emerald mine purchased somewhere and egg sized stones were garlanding the neck of the wife who wanted to be a movie star of a bygone era. Self adulation and lists of costly wedding gifts swarming instagram. Boring. You Have seen it once you have seen it forever. Nothing new anywhere ?Just scads of embarrassment.

A bored child has to rely on his wits. The capers of bored children globally have lead to the invention of games . I remember being told it is good to have nothing on the agenda. No activities. Even now. That is when I wrote a play at the age of ten. The fact that my home-spun cast of two scoffed at it and changed the lines at will and refused to have rehearsals gave me a blueprint for the next venture. I saw a bigger picture i would have never seen before.

Yet if one is cursed with a restless mind that is not yoga trained to sit motionless and listen to breath than the sky is the limit in imagining and enacting mischief or bravery. My brother and his adolescent pals while undergoing a punishment of being gated for a week managed to make miniature rockets out of clothes hanger wire, sulphur scratched off packs of matches and the sawed off tip off a metal cup plus parts of a home making plane kit and suceeded. In that brief sizzle of spluttering glory they were astronauts who knew their stuff. needless to say, the disciplinary action taken by parents when a rocket backfired and broke a glass window and singed a leg in its trajectory was not imaginative. More incarceration in the middle of summer holidays. The miscreants planned a protest which would be a hunger strike conducted by the the smallest thin little boy. It lasted an hour before he was seduced by A Kit Kat and a Mars Bar.

“we have to come up with a better idea. So think please” my brother grumbled at his pals.

“who wants to think? lets just play cricket “ announced the second in command as he cast a pitying look at my brother.

I am more than weary of sci fi and magic realism. The patience required to sit through an entire series is something I do not possess. However i recently saw a cinematographer’s personal dream in a couple of scenes where i am certain my heart stopped beating. The abyss, cavern or unending sand dune was teeming with unearthly sound. The sound spoke and that was that. So I imagined the ensuing drama and knew it had infinite possibilities.

Now, dear readers I must stop as I am seated in my balcony with legs propped up due to an unfortunate leg injury and the top of a monster has just appeared. i think somone has just released the Kraken.