Come with me and you’ll be …

in a world of surprisingly little imagination.
This will (hopefully) come as a surprise to many of you, but I am severely challenged in the suspension of belief / imagination department.  I suppose you could say I’m creative.  I like to do things with my hands.  I used to draw pretty well.  I kind of sculpt a little and am good at thinking of things to sculpt.  I can jury rig just about anything.  I’m good at stuff like that.  I can’t enjoy fiction like most people though.  Most books won’t hold my attention.  Sad movies never make me cry.  I get overly distracted by plot holes and predictability in scripts.  OMG, I do not understand pen and paper RPG’s.  People who refer to playing video games like they’re actually in them baffle me.  I just completely and utterly lack the ability to pretend I am someone else or to get immersed in a story I know didn’t really / isn’t really happening.  All of my witticisms are simply twists on existing things.  Puns, parodies, satirical jabs, and sarcasm.  Even my “art” if you can call it that, is reproduction or combining existing things in new ways.  This doesn’t really bother me or anything.  I’m just baffled by how others seem to do it so easily.

My daughter wears a fairy costume at renaissance festivals.  Her fairy has props and a back story, heck, she has a whole fairy world where different types of fairies live in different places and whatnot.  For example, she lives in a sunflower and drinks an elixir that makes her people sized so she can interact with humans when she wants to.  Flower fairies and tree fairies have bad blood between them.  They’re easy to tell apart though because tree fairies have pointy ears.  There aren’t really any rock fairies but it’s considered very posh to live in a geode.   She thinks they’re really too flashy and quite uncomfortable though, so she doesn’t really see what all the fuss is about.

I’ve worked at Ren faires for 7 years and I can’t even maintain the same accent all day, let alone come up with a back story.

It’s the same with Andy and his gamers.  They’ll play a game and then stand around and reminisce about it like it not only actually happened but like they weren’t all just there.  Or Andy will tell some story about gaming or airsoft or whatever and his friends all play along like he just got back from a tour overseas and is telling legit war stories.
I contemplated playing the Dresden Files RPG until I discovered I couldn’t just say I was Molly would have to create a character and then try to think and act like that character.  What?!?!  I totally can’t do that.

The ability to think in stories like that is just so weird and foreign to me.  Heck, even as a kid when we played Barbies I really just wanted to dress them up and fix their hair.  I never cared about whatever little scenario we were supposed to be playing out.

I’m not really sure what the point of any of this is other than it occurred to me to find it odd that the lifelong weird girl who wanted to grow up to be an artist utterly lacks an imagination.  I guess it’s a good thing I’m smart and a good technical writer or I guess I’d be screwed.  Also, I always did suck at ending things that I write so, um, the end.

 

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2 Comments

Filed under Miscellany

2 responses to “Come with me and you’ll be …

  1. Being a child of the ’70s, when we played barbies, we played space battles (thank you George Lucas). The result is that the boys brought out their GI Joe’s and all the girl’s brought out their Barbies and we were able to play together. Space battles, Jungle exploration, Submarine trips, and Pirates. Having the imaginations of both the Boys and Girls together brought about play more play ideas and expanded out horizons.

    It think the ability to suspention disbelief and imagination is closely tied to childhood play and self-entertainment. Playing dress up and pretending to be a queen. Inventing games in the playground. Getting a horse for your Barbie and having to create a reason why she has a horse and stories for her to run around on her horse.

    When my neices want to play Barbie, she wanted to play house or school. I realized I didn’t know how to do that. I got stopped short with everyday normal things. Why would anyone want to play the normal things they do every day anyway? I thought the whole idea of play was escapism. Being different people in different worlds.

    I just ended up drawing and coloring with my neices instead. That was safe.

    • That makes a lot of sense, actually. When I was really little I just played with my mom. We made things out of play-doh and then let them dry or colored, painted, made things out of construction paper etc. When I was 5 my brother was born and when I was 10 my sister followed. I’ve basically been raising kids my entire life. Not much of a childhood, really. When I got a little older we jumped rope and rode bikes and I still drew and sculpted and crocheted (I should learn how to do that again) and made my own clothes as a creative outlet. I never really tried to use my imagination. I didn’t have a reason to. Hmmm, very interesting.

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