
To the small child the sand castle is real.
The building has scale, form and substance. A work of art, if at the hand of an artist. And every child is an artist - unspoiled, spontaneous, a natural.
It seems a bit of a shame to one day wake up on the beach and know that our grand abode is only a fragile image, that the next wave will wash it away. How can it be a work of art if it cannot stand through the night? Where will we dream if not asleep in the turret?
One of the benefits of growing up is to better understand reality; one of the downsides is to lose such lovely illusions. We wake up from our dreams, alas.
Is there no middle ground?
Myth is the public dream, and dream is the private myth. - Joseph Campbell
My topical post today at South by Southwest is about election possibilities.
Tags: thoughts diary philosophy
No comments:
Post a Comment