My Imagination is my Best Friend
As a youngster, my imagination was my best friend. As an elder, I still depend on the playground of my mind to keep my sanity, no matter how many traffic jams life tries to plunder in my brain.
My imagination is just 2 steps ahead of the world I walk in. Somewhere down the path, I figured out how to retrain my brain to be ok in the present and not on a teeter-totter — unbalanced. I learned to walk two worlds simultaneously.
Here is how they sometimes collide:
Walking down the stairs in the dark winter morning I notice something on the couch — “Oh, it’s a lamb”, I calmly think — not startled or afraid. I’m so use to this constant invasion in my mind. It’s not a lamb, it’s a blanket. I’ve learned that if I stay calm — it will remain a blanket.
The sheets and blankets on the bed are in disarray. The bed appears cold and I wonder, did the sheets and blankets have an argument? I wish to make them feel better and make the bed, — tuck the sheets in tightly, and fluff the pillows. My boyfriend, Adrian doesn’t like to make the bed, so I tell him to turn the sheets, blankets, and pillows into a sculpture. (We now have a photo album called “Bed Sculptures”).
As the solo hike in the forest continued longer then I thought it would, my eyes darted in high alert. The forest shadows became zany monsters ready to pounce at every twist of the swirling wind as I dashed quickly back home.
I sit with the audience watching a dancer in a purple tutu and pink running shoes with a chorus behind him singing nursery rhymes. I wonder, “what are they all thinking?” A thousand strangers bonding wordlessly makes no sense, so I place a large book with empty pages in the lobby and colorful pens nearby. I want to capture their thoughts and cherish it in my book I will have after the performance is over, the dancers have gone home and the streets are silent again. I will walk away with a book under my arm and take their memories with me to sleep.
I am an actor! Playing other’s reading their lines. I dress the part and act the scene with words crisp off my tongue.
I am an actor, wearing someone else’s shoes that flip flop along, as I become…a clown, performing fancy magic tricks to the kids on the street corner.
Wrapping a pretty lace shawl on my shoulders, I am now a courtesan; flirting with men in the alley.
Am I an actor? Maybe I’m just me and they’re all parts of me.
I had hundreds of imaginary friends to play with as a youngster. What fun we had acting great scenes together.
