(Photo Source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/lackingfocus/2307255693/)
The lunatic, the lover, and the poet
Are of imagination all compact.
. . .
And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to aery nothing
A local habitation and a name.
This is the beauty of Shakespeare, he was capable of deep human analysis. He could put into words, into prose the intricacies of life, of emotion, of being human. He wrote beautiful prose capturing the complexities…this is all but lost in today’s culture of saying nothing all day long, in the age of Twitter and text messages.
Imagination is still necessary. It can help you out of any situation, it brings you to life. Imagination will make you love harder, think more, it will drive you completely crazy but it can bring you back to the edge of sanity just as fast. Imagination is inspirational, motivational, necessary.
I am both haunted and delivered by my monumental imagination. It is only when I ignore it or deny it that I begin to drown in apathy, that I lose my solid stance, that my dreams begin to wither and die. I have fallen in love through my imagination and I have gone completely mad dancing in its depth. And I have written soul-shaking poetry all serenaded by my imagination… it revives me from the doldrums of the every day and reminds me there is beauty and good everywhere…but keeps me on my toes for all that is not.