When our imagination led us...

Remember those days when all we wanted to do was doodle? In class, in a gym period, sitting outside the principal’s office; a pen was all we needed, the surface was everywhere; our arms, legs, hands, walls newspapers and notebooks. What about those smiley faces under our signature? And the little aliens and Martians drawn with immaculate detail; complete with crosshatch shading?
And how about all those wonderfully crafted stories, albeit lacking in correct grammar but certainly creative enough to get an A+, even in today’s world I dare say! The words flowed, the ideas in such abundance that it would be a frantic race to compete with the bell that marked the end of the English period; the writing turning incredibly tiny and illegible in the last few sentences.
Clearly it was an age where we dared to break the norms, dared to disobey. There were no barriers that we cared to observe. We questioned everything and everyone!
So what happens to us as adults? Inundated with books on writing, creating art, books on unleashing the writer’s block, the artist block…where does it stop? Reading a book to understand the writing, looking at a painting to understand the style, we have simply lost the art of enjoying this simple pleasure.
Why haven’t we just gone back to the un’adult’erated days of our childhood where all we did was dream and then made them a reality on paper, any paper.
Go back to being a child or let the child in you surface…and lead you.