imagination

The other day, while having dinner with friends, the group talked business stuff. My gaze wandered to these small screen doors (bigger than dollhouse doors, but miniature all the same) leaning against the kitchen window.

What world lies beyond those doors?

There must be fairies and tree nymphs and water nymphs and flowers bigger than me and unicorns (there are always unicorns).

I was walking toward the bathroom. As I approached the front entryway, I heard a VROOOM! VROOOM! I peeked around the corner and outside the door. There, right in front of my door was the shadowy figure of a man!

My heart palpitated then hid in my throat.

He's got a chainsaw! He's going to chainsaw through my front door and kill me!* And with my new old cell phone** I can't get coverage in my house most of the time. I have no way to call 911! I'm going to die!

Christie at Whistling in the Dark is talking about her favorite character: Jo March. Jo March is my favorite second favorite character, second to, of course, Anne of Green Gables. Christie talks about stealing some of their magic, and I agree. We want part of their magic. That's why we dream, why we read, why we act, why we watch movies or plays or musicals.

Inspired by Debbie at Goodthoughts, who shares a little bit of her creative process, I started a discussion on Intersection about the creative process, especially the beginnings.

Why not share with each other how we get started, what brings brush to canvas, words to page, fingers to piano?

As I sit to write this, I don't know where it will go. I don't know how the threads of the story will weave. I admit, it'll be rough. But stick with me as we figure out from whence came this imaginative, female theologian who loves the arts and how she came to accept that.

For Christmas, my mom gave me this handy-dandy froth maker. It's a small hand tool that whips milk into shape.

In other words, it makes ordinary coffee into a celebration.

When did we stop making our own froth? When did we come to depend on Starbucks?

You must realize by now that I'm not just talking java. I'm talking imagination.

When did we depend on others to imagine for us? When did we stop singing songs and writing poetry and sketching landscapes?