Today we watched “The Spiderwick Chronicles” and I loved it. I really enjoy anything that has to do with imagination.
Growing up I read a lot. I always had a book handy. Any spare time I had I was reading. I remember going to the library two to three times a day. I was reading basically anything. As I grew older I started to read some of the stuff we sold at the store. In those days we had those “photo-roman”, I’ve read so many of them. Then I went to the “Harlequin” type books with their love stories. How I loved those. I’ve always been a softy for a love story. I had (and still do) such a vivid imagination that I read through those feeling every emotions described, and imagining myself in such situations.
I was a big dreamer in my teen years. I was a complete difference person in my mind: I wasn’t shy, nor average, I was a girl guys liked… that was all in my head though. I had real friends, but never mentioned how my fantasy life was. Later on I lived vicariously through some soap operas characters. I never chose the popular one; I prefer the more discreet one… Anything supernatural I enjoy. I’m a romantic (I know!) and can almost be hopeless at times. For the last two weeks I’ve been reading the “Twilight” series, and I must say I love it. I’ve always been fascinated by vampires, starting with Dracula. I was an avid fan of “Buffy”, then “Angel”, I even watched “Moonlight” (for a short time, since it wasn’t aired that long).
I’m realising that I still have an active imagination and can take a line from a book and run with it. I can’t help it, I just do. I’ve been wondering how it might be for those of us who lack imagination and only enjoy things that are “real” or “seen”. It must be so “beige” (couldn't really find the right word here...) to live your life like that.
Recently I told Hubby that I believed in magic, and he looked at me funny. (Granted, Hubby doesn’t believe any anything but himself, so…) Magic is what we make out of everyday things, events, chores, life! I truly believe it is as magical as we want it to be.
If we can believe that there is a God, Evil, Angels, and such, why can’t we believe that there is also fairies, elves, witches, werewolves, etc.? It might be chance, odds in our favour, timing, but what if? Why are we so afraid to believe? Why are we so doubtful? Is it because we fear the unknown? Why do we have to have an explanation for everything? Do we need to control that much?
I wonder… If one asks for a sign and gets it, is it chance or simply projection of one’s wish? Some might choose to say “it was just luck”, instead of accepting it as a sign, but what if…