Couverture de We’ve Left Little to Imagination (Essay)

We’ve Left Little to Imagination (Essay)

We’ve Left Little to Imagination (Essay)

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 We’ve Left Little to Imagination Uninspired creative endeavors are not faults of potential but culture. Cloudless deep blue sky. Green coated hillsides. Calm ocean glimmering under a warm sun. A good day for a hike. Others were of similar mind, parents and kids and friends relishing the beauty and the day. Some wore t-shirts and shorts, some leggings, tank tops, pants. And some wore colored spandex so form-fitting even bills would reveal their value. Passing one such woman markedly sculpted by spandex, the thoroughness of the impact of the last several decades coalesced into a singular understanding. Though we gradually desensitize to the ever-infringed upon demarcation of now archaically-perceived propriety, the bright sun and clear ocean air showed it plainly. In our current age of progressive enlightenment, some decision was made that everything must be stated, everything must be qualified, everything must be shown. As necklines plunged and hemlines shortened, modesty and privacy became so unknown they currently border on the fantastical. Is it any wonder then that true creativity is feeling more and more uncommon, considering we’ve left little to imagination? Imagine a gift, artfully wrapped. Take a moment to see it, paper, card, bow, precise folds, and all. What’s inside? It could be air or a pebble or a key that leads to a train, plane, the power of rain. Sense the possibility? The mystery? The chance for any single or series of items to be awaiting your eyes? Until the box is opened, anything could be inside. Then it can be admired, appreciated, valued, but it can also only be what it is. Imagine a gift, artfully wrapped. Take a moment to see it, paper, card, bow, precise folds, and all. Notice the corner? The paper is ripped just a bit, enough to peek at what awaits your eyes. Do you catch the edge of a design? The point of an image? The fractured angle of a letter? Until the box is opened, anything could be inside, though the mystery is not quite the same, as a clue narrows the possibility. Still, it could be a good many things. Imagine a gift, wrapped only with a bow. Exciting, but it’s clear what awaits your eyes. Do you take it out right away? Maybe. Do you put it aside, because there’s no mystery to uncover, no guess to confirm? Perhaps. Do you imagine what else it could be? Probably not. Once you know what it is, you don’t regard it quite the same. Imagine man throughout the ages in different states of wrapping. Then think of how much has changed once we stopped closing doors, stopped covering up, stopped being subtle. In just another push to progress ourselves right into eternal, unmitigated happiness and freedom, we became more and more explicit in language, in dress, in art, in literature, in entertainment. The easier everything became to access, for any number of excuses from “education” to “we’re all adults here,” the less need there was for our minds to conjure what we couldn’t see. How much is there to imagine when everything is right in our line of sight? The result of such changes is most often noticed in the various possibilities of creative output. One dominant tendency is to imitate or rework what’s already been created, repackaging instead of reinventing. While that could lead to some unique creative endeavors, it’s difficult to call the same rose by another name just to make it appear as something else. The other inclination most often revealed is that when someone wants to garner notice, they no longer do so through an admirable, “Here’s what I’ve done,” but something more akin to, “Look at this body I have! Like this and this and this!” Such is the machination of a disingenuous illusionist, who seeks to distract from what’s real with shock and morbid fascination rather than true wonderment and value. It fixes the viewer’s eyes on something he can’t bring himself to look away from, so he doesn’t realize he’s not seeing anything interesting, intriguing, or intelligent at all. These approaches lead to underdeveloped creativity and people unable to bring life to empty spaces. Both hamper imagination, and thereby human innovation and achievement. Imagination is defined by its ability to range, to explore unmoored and unfettered, to envision what else could be. When everything is known, and in such sharp focus too, what is left for the mind to wonder about? What motivates creative endeavors, when the eye is so overstimulated by continual, concentrated bombardments of noise over substance? At times there is an advantage to knowing what a thing is, to spending hours, months, years exploring its entirety, usually in regard to what matters most in life, faith, meaning, relationships, and the like. For these, and similar, solidity is more important than imagining, so the more focus on what we have, the stronger, more resilient it can become. Moreover, this is specifically possible for things that truly matter because they have already...
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