Hello blogworld!
Sorry, I lied to you.
I know…I know, this blog is supposed to be spent on an intensive layout of publishing and what I have explored, but I forgot that I should post an assignment I’ve had to work on. It’s called “This I believe” and it’s honestly been one of the hardest compositions I’ve had to ever write. I believe in a lot of things, but would the reader even care?
I was going to write about the great HP, but I could not evoke everything I wanted to on paper- I don’t think I’m a strong enough writer for something like that yet. I was then going to write about my books and that I believe they are great, but I feared coming off as self-righteous when I really mean to just say that I love them and the characters that have really shaped themselves over the years.
Then it hit me, what’s the one thing I’ve always believed in since a child: Imagination. I remember hitting the twelfth grade and talking to one of my best friends about how sad it was that some of our classmates just don’t believe in imagining things anymore. He and I often spent time walking the trails behind our old high school, imagining things like if we were students at Hogwarts, or if we were in Narnia, or if we were dragged into a magical world what would it be like and who would we play. I was usually the hero and he was usually the antagonist.
So here is the rough draft of my assignment, which I hope to add a lot more to.
It’s called, “Insert title here”, not because I was lazy, but because it’s supposed to play off of the imagination theme.
You’re seeing it- it’s there, breathing in front of you like a living being with a heart, a soul, and a tongue. It speaks to you and you either choose to listen or silence it. Embracing its soul we are released from these shackles of our monotonous lives and freed into whatever it deems. Embracing you is what I believe in, because that imagination is the greatest thing a human being can own. I believe that imagination is a parent.
I had never really taken much thought into the workings of creativity when I was younger, and when I held a book that a teacher assigned for me to read. I never thought much more than racing to skim the pages over just enough so that I could pick up the important things: names, place, and a bit of the plot. You were only this, and nothing more. You were nothing more than a nuisance or an exhausting attempt to make me feel something that I obviously did not understand- or rather did not care about.
It was not until I read of Narnia that I finally understood you. Sure, people are good at imagining a scene in front of them, but allowing yourself to picture that the wardrobe in your parents’ room will eventually decide to lead you to the snowy lampost is you. I think you struck me because I was the kid who was never really good at anything. I just barely passed math, only skimming the surface, and science with its atoms and neutrons confused me more than anything else.
You are for the underdogs and the ones who feel like they do not belong. For that I am thankful, because no matter how much happened, you got me through. You really are the gift that keeps on giving because you inspired me to become a writer. Then you inspire me to write stories which will help other’s imaginations grow even more.
People silence you and cast you aside as nothing, they even tell their children to, “Stop imagining things,” or “get your heads out of the clouds”. Don’t take offence. I think it’s just because we are so focused on getting the ‘job done’ that we lose sight of things that help our soul to breathe a little past the sleet and smog of the city. After all, it is you that makes mountains move, you who makes the hopeless feel hope, and the blind to see. Ultimately it is you that can move masses of people to act or to feel a single feeling. You are the foreground of everything understood by human beings, and amazed by the creations and affects you have on us, imagination, I believe in you.
I feel you, hear you, breathe you, and write with you. Without you, I cannot exist.
There it is. I have a lot of work. I think I’m going to go more with nurturing parent feel and really connect to how imagination can be a parent. Aw well, won’t get anywhere unless you start.
Good night, blogworld!
Keep flickering on, my wayward son!
Posted in The Wick, writing in a variety of modes and genres course
Tags: belief, composition, parent, writing