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Friday, November 23, 2012

Why Everlasting Imagination?

When I was a little girl in Virginia, I noticed that my parents didn't seem to have much fun and rarely ever used their imaginations. I always wondered why this was, but try as I might I could never come up with a reason. On further inquiry, I was informed by one of my parents that "when you get to be my age you start to lose your imagination." Lose your imagination??? Was such a thing even possible? All those poor grown-ups I knew had no imagination. I considered the depressing existence they must be forced to endure without it. What kind of miserable life must they lead?

The more I thought about it, the more I began to grow worried. Did all adults lose their imagination? If so, did that mean that I too would inevitably experience such a dreaded loss? I knew I couldn't keep from growing up but I resolved that no matter what it took, even if it killed me, I would be the only adult with an imagination.

From then on, when my imagination was not in use, I regularly felt the perimeters of my consciousness to make sure it was still intact, as a man afraid of dying at any moment might check his pulse.

At 12, the miserable age between childhood and becoming a young adult, my hypochondriac imagination became even more convinced that it would soon be severed from the rest of my psyche. From then on I used it more then ever. This was sometimes a good thing and sometimes not so good. Many of the inanimate things around me benefited, as I gifted them with names and personalities of their own. Undesirable consequences were relatively few, but present none the less. I slowly found new outlets like art, writing, and music composition. In August of 2011, at the age of fifteen-and-a-half, I started this blog as an incentive to use my imagination.

I had a new blog, GarageBand, a Photoshop program, a new bamboo tablet, and several available computers. There was only one thing preventing me from moving forward with the things I wanted to do. I was absolutely terrified of showing my work to anyone.

At the time I felt myself brave. I did hundreds of things most girls are afraid to do. I was almost never afraid of physical danger, but I had other fears. I was afraid of embarrassment, being unwanted, and unloved; being rejected by those I cared for most. It's the reason I wrote one of my first posts, entitled Fear, something I wrote solely for myself and no one else.

Hesitantly, I shared it with a few trusted friends, afraid of what they would think of my writing.   My blog has helped me with the fear of displaying my work, but it has taught an even more important lesson: Failure is a good thing. It's the way God strengthens us and pushes us in the right direction. Each time I fail or face rejection I learn from it and I come closer to success. I am using my imagination to do things I love, and even if no one appreciates it at first, I am honing my skills and outlets in the hopes that I will someday have something good.

I know that even if I face failure now, God can help me get past it and with a little imagination, I can hopefully work around it. I chose a name that I thought would adequately portray my lifelong quest for all things imaginative, as well as remind me of The Everlasting Creator.

So here I am rambling about nothing, on "Everlasting Imagination".

-Faye