For a long time, I conceived imagination as the most important sensation that a conscious being can have. Thoughts that are broken down into internal images, sounds, impressions, this was for me THE trigger for what naturally flowed from creativity. But that was before. Imagining remains unquestionably a founding step for any vision because of its predisposition to bring the foundations of an architecture on which to meditate - but if in the past I saw this formalization as the most important, time has proven to me that it can also be the greatest excuse for stagnation or for waiting in vain, pushing us progressively into a latent idleness, or even into a definitive inactivity. In itself, imagining is like talking, writing, "functioning": anyone can do it. It would be presumptuous to seek to evaluate something as subjective and intimate as the imaginary - just like dreams, reflections and opinions (even if it has become commonplace today to spread all these aspects around in constant search of a confrontation to prove or refute this or that discourse - but I am slipping off the subject). Let's come to the point: imagining does not require any long-term effort if we take this brain activity as something innate, something obvious. We all breathe, for example, however some people will work so much on their respiratory capacity that they will be able to exceed a "norm" and progress on personal records in apnea. Something in common thus becomes a practice leading unquestionably to a capacity, if not out of the norm, more specialized in a field which is nevertheless common and within everyone's reach. Imagining is part of the same disposition. If we do not try to push back the limits of our imagination, by stimulating it, by striving to deepen sensations, ideas, then imagination becomes obsolete - it exists only briefly and on an ad hoc basis. For a creative person like me, imagination is a phantom activity, in the sense that not everyone around me is aware that I have made it an activity that almost never stops, keeping my mind in a constant reactivity to my environment, whatever it may be. At a certain point, it has also caused me some social or attention disturbances in general, but even if it sometimes creates some funny scenes, some misunderstandings or can give divergent impressions of what I really think and feel, it is something I have become completely accustomed to and which only disturbs the less initiated people around me. Nevertheless, it has also happened to me on several occasions that I have not been able to function at all other than by constantly having a sharp mind, to the point of exhaustion and turning in a vacuum to no longer distinguish the non-interest in seeking a burst of inventiveness when nothing stimulating is happening. It is also the constraint of no longer savoring the simple and natural moments of everyday life, and of no longer being able to enjoy privileged moments with the people I love and who surround me daily, of looking too much in yesterday, tomorrow or in what in the present does not exist otherwise than in a purified vision of any treatment distorting the flow of time, emotions and speeches that make the moment. Imagining is therefore, like many practices, a question of balance. Too little, and it becomes banal, too much and it distorts social life, and the very essence of what we are trying to capture.
We are all subject to sleep. Some will boast of long, deep, soothed nights, others of tormented insomnia subject to questioning the world or their being - often both. All dream. Yet here again, it is possible to observe that dreams can be defined as banal, irrational or capital. For my part, dreams represent a complement of existence in which we exercise our capacities. It is the room of the mind and of time, the mind is free, time has no hold, and moreover, the consequences only result in a form of shock from which it is possible to draw lessons for one's real and palpable life without suffering them physically. I like to talk about dreams with my loved ones, for years my little brother and I have been fascinated by this veil that seems to make a perfect link between reality and emptiness. My most tenacious ideas have taken root in my dreams or in my hypnotic parentheses during journeys or moments of spiritual floating (you know, those moments when our gaze fixes on the void and our thoughts escape so far away that it can be strange to suddenly return to ourselves and to our surroundings when we seemed to be anchored elsewhere - this too is a sensation similar to dreams). I have practiced dreaming as intensely as I have practiced reality. At one point in my life, between the ages of 12 and 15, I felt much more involved in my sleep than in my more rational (not for myself, for others) experiences. On many occasions, I had the very clear and coherent feeling that what was happening in my dreams had an intrinsic meaning to my deepest questions, to certain steps that I had to go through within myself and for myself. I have always found it curious, moreover, that we are subjected at this point in reality to questions and interactions that are so factitious and superficial that we have to take refuge in dreams or what comes closest to them: books, films, music, games. As if the language of sound was only at the service of the mundane and that it was only in our silences that we could finally reach true communication: to understand ourselves, thanks to words and to the universes of what finally brought us to this state oscillating between the stasis of our bodies but paradoxically to this hyper attention and this open-mindedness that comes to us when we are embarked thanks to these objects of words, images and sounds. Of meaning. Of essence. Senses at the service of essence. Essence at the service of the senses. In short, I get lost in all the senses. I want to come to this idea that dreams contain this substance of reality that is so important - I am in search of catalyzing it in every journey, and by dint of working on my dreams since I was very young, I must admit that I felt my capacities in this field explode. I live long, intense, captivating dreams, I am lucky enough to be able to remember them 9/10 times, I am able to remember three, four, sometimes five dreams in a single night and - since I stopped using recreational substances several months ago now - I even find depth in the dialogues, events, and ideas that I had misplaced for a long time or at least had lost in intensity. The balance here is not to rely too much on dreams either. Indeed, at another time in my life, darker this time, I could have a dream involving real people and no longer make the distinction when I woke up. The content of a dream could wipe out weeks of reality, so focused was I was on my chimerical feelings. Moreover, dreams are limited by their boundaries. How many times during the dream I realized the importance of the idea, without being able to channel it as it was, forcing me to wake up to reconstruct it as best I could, certain of losing important elements. It is moreover in these moments that the imaginary comes to strengthen the sensations to maintain this flow in order to recreate it in reality. It is often said for a creative working in the audiovisual industry that the idea goes through many stages: writing, shooting and editing are all stages that distort the basic idea. For my part, I will add without any doubt that the preliminary stage is the dream / thought because already the transition of the retranscription of the latter distorts it in substance and form.
Since we are all capable of imagining and dreaming, we are all capable of creating. What will make the difference between the idea and the fact is the test. And the trial will only lead to success (for oneself - once again failure and success exist only in subjectivity) through discipline.
Discipline is putting theory into practice and sticking to it, doing, redoing, pushing where one might be content to have felt the jolt. To create is to go beyond what one imagines, to confront the idea with oneself, to make it exist in the void and in reality, to model, build and deconstruct it. Creating is learned to oneself like any other skill, through personal efforts and contributions, but also from others. It is good to create for oneself, but I think that creation takes on its full meaning when it seeks to become universal. We create out of selfishness and altruism at the same time, it's a paradox just as matter comes from nothing. We know what we create and yet we rediscover it once we have completed it, because to be honest a creation has no end - which is purely logical since it has no real beginning either. A creative person is a visionary blinded by his ideas, he is a tightrope walker balancing above the void. There is no net at his feet, just as there are no hang-ups at his sides - looking for them at all costs before getting started means anticipating the end, and there is no end without a beginning. To create is as frightening as the idea of disappearing, and for the moment, it is perhaps because these two notions are as close as creating defines for me the meaning of my existence.
In this regard, here is the bottom of my thought: nothing has importance and meaning. Life is a hazardous and chaotic projection in an infinite but cloistered space (Paradoxes, paradoxes...), facing the emptiness yet as palpable and breathable as our environment and our fellow men (Paradox...) we have the possibility to define what makes sense or not, what is worthwhile or not. I am not saying that we choose life, but I deeply believe that we can choose how we imagine it, dream it and create it.
This text has been germinating in my mind for several nights, I spent a few moments before falling asleep thinking about it, a few moments of hypnosis to formulate it awkwardly in my mind, to create it, I decided to make fun of its success or failure, I tried it. What he tells is very intimate and personal, it belongs only to me. Yet I know at first glance that it may belong to you. Imagining, Dreaming and Creating is as much my life as it is my job, and even if I find it difficult to get something out of it in the reality of the system in which I evolve, I will never be able to quantify how much it brings me in my daily life. Paradoxical? Hum... Maybe not this time.
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