Imagination

So, we're done with solitude. Now what if we talked about imagination ?

What is imagination? Imagination is much more than just a word, much more than a term in the French language.

It is the very essence of infinity , the foundation of possibility , the springboard to immensity .

It is she who opens doors where there were only walls. She traces paths where there was only a desert. Imagination is not seen, it is lived . It is not born by chance, it emerges, leaps, unfolds like a beam of light coming from the heart of the mind.

Imagination is the Holy Grail of freedom. It connects our desires to our expectations, it makes our souls vibrate, it projects us into worlds where everything becomes possible. In imagination, the reader becomes an actor, the actor becomes a director , and the latter transforms into a director… all this in a fraction of a second.

Imagination is a fast, fluid, and invincible force. It slides where no robot, no machine can go. It consoles the most unfortunate , makes the wisest dream and the most audacious vibrate. Imagination inspires vocations, it gives birth to art, to painting, to literature, to new worlds. It is the source of the creation of the world and of your world.

Your world isn't perfect? But who said it had to be? Who said a perfect world existed or an imperfect world was the norm? Nobody. Because everyone creates their own reality while everyone else watches the movie of their lives.

And precisely, does this film have to be perfect? No. Because perfection does not exist , just as imagination knows no limits or standards.

Let me tell you about my story, about this intimate film that I created with my imagination. When I was a child, I often sat on my grandmother's white bench. There, I dreamed. I wanted everything: a bicycle, a dog, a locomotive, a swing, a silk dress... Yes, a silk dress. At that time, boys could not dress up as girls. It was forbidden, not in accordance with the customs of society.

So, on that bench, in my imaginary world, I played at being myself , at being who I really was: a little girl in a boy's body.

A little girl with long, curly blond hair, while my head was shaved every spring under the pretext that it was lice season.

In this universe, I was free. Free to be me. Free to invent myself, to create, to dream. In my imagination, I found the key to my truth . I didn't need the approval of the outside world. It was the only place where "me" was truly "me".

This is why it is so difficult, if not impossible, to define imagination. To define it would be to reveal our most intimate, most modest, but also most grandiose secrets.

And you? What is your secret? What is the meaning of your imagination? What is this unconfessed Grail that you keep deep inside you, this unique and precious treasure that only your heart knows?

Angelique CHAPUIS