artEDventures
  • HOME
  • artEDventures- Blog
  • Amazing Art Supplies
  • Doodling
  • Therapeutic Art
  • Public Domain Images
  • Visual Art Journals
    • Art Journaling Benefits
    • Black Out Poetry
    • C is for Craftsmanship
    • Dan Eldon
    • Exploration Assignment
    • Free Printables
    • Inside/Outside Self
    • Make Your Mark
    • "Non-Living Living thing"
    • Where Do Artists Get Ideas?
    • Vital Signs
    • Visual Journal Techniques
  • Sara
sara.gant@onslow.k12.nc.us

​Life in the Made for Sara Docu-Drama Event

3/24/2017

2 Comments

 

If I know anything about myself, it's that I have a very active imagination.  Most of the time this is a fantastic gift that I am hugely grateful for.  I have no problem thinking of things to create; I have infinite projects and possibilities constantly streaming through my head with my own personal, private, endless wifi connection.  Being bored is not in my vocabulary. 

(Parenthetical side note detour:  I have lots of enablers for this semi-blissful condition.  You know who you are: "Hey Sara, do you have any use for these?  I was gonna throw them out but thought you could do something with them!"  Or.... "I have five bags of purple wooden (insert-cool-item-here-thingys)..... I'm going to bring them in cos I know you and your kids could definitely use them!"  My brain: "Oooooh! We can do this, and this, and this..... oooh the possibilities!  I'll just put it over here. For now."  This.  Is.  How.  Hoarding.  Starts.) 

Anyway, I digress. You get my point, right?  Most of the time, I repeat, MOST of the time being imaginative can make for some pretty cool days. 

Sometimes, however, this imagination of mine takes me places unwillingly. That's right. I get kidnapped under my own cognizance.  This makes for some not very cool days. Or nights. Two events in particular stand out from my youth. 

The house that I grew up in in Belgium had stairs up to a bathroom on the right, and then you had to turn left to climb two more stairs. When I was old enough to be going to bed by myself I would walk up those stairs scared to death that someone was going to "get me,".  I was convinced that the bathroom to the right was harboring a maleficent, evil thing-person hiding in the dark shadows. It would jump on me the minute I turned my back on the bathroom door to turn left, I just knew it would. So I began carrying ammunition up the stairs with me.  I was ready.  The minute I sensed motion behind me I would launch that missile glass of water at the thing. Because it might just melt the thing, or the shock it would invoke might work long enough to give me time to run back downstairs to Mum and Dad and to safety!

I even remember the night I was walking up the stairs, big glass of water in my right hand, when it suddenly hit me that it wouldn't do me ANY good on the right side. No, I'd need to carry it in my left hand, because I would turn left then immediately spin around to that side and throw the water from the wrong angle....  I was SO thankful I figured that out before it was too late! Saved my life, it did, that little bit of clever thinking!

Fast forward about ten years. My friends and I took the train to Brussels to see "Friday the 13th."  Yes, that one- the original one.  I rode my bike to the train station in Waterloo. (I can't remember who I went with so if it was you please remind me!)

We saw the movie;  I was terrified; we took the train home.  Now I had to ride back through late-night Waterloo with images of crazy Jason with the hockey mask coming after me.  It had been the very first horror movie I'd ever seen and I vividly remember the white-knuckled ride home!  

It just got better and better, living inside my head.  Art in high school was my sanctuary. I went on amazing school trips to faraway lands that fueled the globe-trotting fire and the endless ruminations that typically placed me (and my imagination) in a front-row seat during important historical events.

Ok, I confess, I still do that actually. I'm going to Belize, and if I'm fortunate enough to visit the Mayan ruins again, I know I'll stand at the top of a temple if possible. I know I'll tune out all the other tourists and spend a few minutes streaming the "Live from the Mayan Sacrificial Games" on SaraFlix.  I'll look down at the rainforest canopy, wondering if that is the same stunning view that many victims saw for the last time before (willingly? not so much?) being gifted to the gods. What were they thinking? How did they get to the top? 

I love the endless ruminations, and I especially love archaeology, learning about and breathing in historical artifacts.  I even love my hoarder-enablers. Isn't imagination an incredible gift- MOST of the time?!   



2 Comments
Childproofing Lawrence link
8/4/2022 09:24:08 pm

I enjoyed readiing your post

Reply
Derek Torres link
11/17/2022 12:39:29 am

With nearly religious. Should carry often turn.
Feeling how difference bad time young. Among word identify task white.
Improve class trouble. Someone west moment hope. Across health summer education.

Reply



Leave a Reply.

    Sara M. Gant

    One of the things that art and history teach us is how to look critically at something and visually or conceptually dissect it, or compare it to something else, which in doing so necessitates a knowledge of odd pieces of information.
    I often have these thoughts; they are the flotsam of musings and ideas that swirl just past each other in my brain and sometimes cry out for attention.  I'd like to create
     a synthesis of these ideas; a symbiotic relationship of people, facts,  art, ideas, stories, creations. It may or may not make any sense to you, dear reader, but if you enjoy art, or history, I'd be happy if you enjoy or share in one iota of the delight that I get from this synchronicity!   Mmmmm, yummy words. Synthesis, symbiosis, synchronicity.              
    Connections.

    ​Peace.

    Archives

    October 2018
    March 2017
    January 2017

    RSS Feed

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.