I saw monsters when I was a kid. I hope everyone else did.
At some point in my life, the part of my brain that let me physically interact with my imagination ran away. It might have burrowed deep somewhere to escape the structured realities that I had to live by to be a successful person. Or maybe it just up and died of a quiet little cancer.
Our imaginations might have a lifespan as long as a rabbits. An expiration date before the bacteria comes in to spoil it. Maybe the “crazies” of the world are living with expired imaginations. That part of the brain never died and it rots in place, inhibiting their abilities to interact with the realized world. Some of those crazies, the lesser infected, continue to hold onto to that secret piece of the world we knew as children: through art, through photography, through film, and through stories.
In this week’s selection of artwork you’ll find artists who saw (see) what I saw.
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