Imagination is a way of life
The title of this blog is the subtitle of “The Backstage Man.” And we didn’t give it that lofty position lightly.
The fact is, while we all live in the same universe, we each see it through our own eyes; through our own soul.
When I was a young child of six or seven, I imagined that I heard angels’ voices amid the tall, somber buildings of Parkchester, my neighborhood in the Bronx. It’s not that I thought the voices were there. It wasn’t a hallucination. It’s that I imagined them being there, derived some feeling — a sense of beauty and romance — from that vision and, so, gave it a place in my daily world. But that was only the beginning . . .
Once I discovered the power of imagination to stir emotions beyond those triggered by everyday life, I began to open that door not just deliberately, but passionately, constantly chasing the next angel’s voice — by having conversations with fellow imaginers, playing music, writing, and painting.
The basis for all this was the ability — and the desire — to see not only what is there, what others see, but also what could be or might be there . . . and whatever my subconscious, sparked by available input, can conjure. To discover the immense hidden beauty — the exquisite secrets — of my own subconscious.
As The Backstage Man says, “Reality don’t bother me, long as it knows its place.” I’ll leave science to the scientists, math to the mathematicians, and engineering to the engineers. As I said, there are all kinds of ways to see the world. As for myself — give me a bench in a back yard, a street through a quiet neighborhood, a clearing in the woods, or merely an uncluttered hour, and I will fill it with imagination, my constant companion.
