The fundamental act of the imagination = intuition as faculty of origin &
intuitive searchesaslayers of curtainsboxes sliding doors
& spirals beyond
to prosperimagineput a value on itwatch it open up to the consequential
essential of it?
outside the turbulence is this creativity inside the sphere of humanity discovering
itself as the animal factor in being alive—
i see you, writer, see you w/in the context or outside the crucial
element/to discover the jarring repository of intuitions w/in
oh, the value of it
i see you, reader, among the words paragraphs pages of thousands do you see
her inside the world of the imagination? what she promises the universe of things
or rescues what she can and plays to the vicariousness of light/the richness of
The fundamental act of the imagination/organic being of becoming or vitality of
inventive intuitions remembering the responsibility to whom/dear readers/dear
writers/the zeitgeist of the times?
To thrive in reciprocity is to share this creative mind into which we dig value
& deepen the process of riches not exclusive to those who use it but as inclusive
wholeness, a responsibility to shed light in dark foreboding realms wherever
The imagination girds itself to perceive the vast undertaking: awareness, sensitivity,
A Right. Not A Privilege = Universal Humanity
Here, then, is the intrinsic vulnerability of creating value. Making yourself known &
having no power $ is to divine this vulnerability but make it work $ is to step into
the morass & mess it up before the actor $ can know what goes on inside that
makeshift $ storm?
inimitable conversations? inner connections? outer reflections?
In the name of WHO?
Tell me, Reader. That writer. What does she achieve? Gifts of Meaning? Value? Light? Offerings of riches beyond the saying of them?
Tell me, Writer. This relationship between you and the Reader—
Let it be a giving away to. An interpretation of. A discourse. A dance. A reciprocity.
What it says. What it does. How it affects. Why it creates. This consequence b/t
writers and readers. To do. To be. To live. To want. To ask. To strive.
To become # Active # Robust Primacy #Imagination
open the sphere & let me see you. writer/reader your creativity born w/in like
a deep pool of value running in place & the wind at your back to blow it all o/side
the contours of the #imagination the space where creativity thrives & gives &
becomes and & lives & is not still but an aura of gratitude you are here alive and one w/the wholeness of it. surely, you understand, sweetie. Surely you see the little light drilled down gripping the completion
Some/day if only now the sphere could tell you it holds the root of life itself defining
terms or is it the other way around this thing that drives humanity these words
I Am that identities us as beings in the act of
creating/what is life w/o the imagination
There is in the mind that which holds these things together: Suitcases packed inside speculative imaginings. Backpacks writing letters & mementos & notes & clippings & photos & eternal musings. Sliding doors. Peak-a-boo holes. Strata of distant thoughts hurtling inside the turbulence. This sphere of the mind. A bundled
projection. You. Me. All those out there somewhere:
The primary imagination I hold to be
the living power and prime agent of all
human perceptions, and as a repetition
of the finite mind of the eternal act of
creation in the infinite I Am.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
As source & subject of matter
& correspondent breeze
This close read
are you reading me reading you on the other side?
If inspiration is not in/grown, then what is it? A force to give or like a struggle w/in
that turbulence locking you in or locking you out Take your pick you win or lose.
Posit this question:
Why do you write? Compulsion? Joy? Inspiration? Love? Endearment? Necessary
source? A fortunate turn of the wheel found under the bed?
You read too many books when you were a child. Seek it there
the connection lurking
in the corners of the page
recreating the wonders
of that lost bookworm
living inside the words
turning those pages
making it all up
the mind’s whole/ness
crafting her future
inside the sphere like quanta you can’t know whether empty or full inside the
neurons networking & charging & releasing the synapses that beautiful close
read of your mind as text breathing characters in one brilliant structural fusion
just pretend it’s real
infinity speaking out
do it now. write that first sentence/find the one that makes it all work. the glorious
sense of it. the words. the phrases. the sentences. the paragraphs. secured in recall
& structure via intention or explanation
Know this: The Imagination does not procrastinate. It does not sleep. It walks
upright bumping into you w/in its turbulent boundaries, stutter stepping to
righteous flow, the process break/thru a tactical freight train rolling along
A strategy is what you need. To write. To read. To find that first sentence the day
you were born. Those first words. They mean something these facts of your
existence. The imagination w/in the egg. Do not allow them to encase you smaller
than your self.
it is hard work being this…
looking back at you being the critic being you looking in the mirror
fearing/longing/wishing/dreaming/seeing/knowing/apart from the headlines/
the possibility of great meanings
or maybe it’s b/t the lines the story writes you writing it objectively seeing
made-up truth. it could happen. once it did & you became the objective of
the subjective you
inside the first sentence you can’t think of. the one you were born with.
plot/theme/character/mood/tone/ this visual verbal epiphany when
the world of the living became one & the connectedness of all things outside
yourself/here and not there/this person and not that one/
why are they climbing the wall and they are not i?
What is the subjective me & objective I. Inside the imagination if I create my
speculative fiction do I then exist? Does the creative imagination make me
who I am?
ethical value is the reality not in opposition to anything except the power
to oppose it. say this out loud
the imagined life
the reading life
the writing life