My imagination tries hard to teach moral lessons. I frequently rewind uncomfortable scenes, moments where I acted-out, only to later savour these displays of courage & audacity. Sometimes, I learn from hypothetical coaching; sometimes I take things too far as a result of ardent projection.
Sometimes imagination goes quiet. I search for an image & there is nothing, not even the snow which once indicated a scrambled television station. The inner mind is just inky blackness. I try to fire the screen by conscious projection, perhaps something sexual in the hope that this fantasy will re-ignite the interior regions. Imagination flickers but dissolves back into silence.
I feel flat without this refraction. I shall coax a closed mind back into action.
A few deep breaths & the setting is the maze of imagination. I wander it's tunnels under a light spell, permitting the screen to direct flow & sequence. Time suspends & is on the verge of spinning backward yet I am not in the vortex of memory. As I follow the stream of images, I anticipate a current of new awakening, expectant in needing to be re-adjusted.
I revel in the potentiality of a dawning vision; I ask for transformation.
{Paintings by Katrien De Blauwer }