"Use your imagination". I never understood what was being asked, when I heard this in my young years – what it meant I was supposed to do. I suspected that I didn't actually have one - else I would certainly know what it was and what to do with it. So I fumbled and bumbled about, stalling and evading, ever-fearful more questions be asked of me, revealing the extent of my handicap.
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As a child, like most children, I was not much interested in designating the differences between ‘real’ and ‘not real’, (not to mention that much of what was considered ‘real’ by the adults around me seemed positively distasteful). I longed to know, to validate and discover, to make real and to follow the beauty, mystery, and luminosity that emerged unexpectedly in glimpses, at moments when the motivation to avoid punishment receded or the teacher looked away. This longing did not loosen its grip on me.
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