“My imagination makes me human and makes me a fool it gives me all the world, and exiles me from it.”
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It had never occurred to me before that music and thinking are so much alike. In fact you could say music is another way of thinking, or maybe thinking is another kind of music.
We are volcanoes. When we women offer our experience as our truth, as human truth, all the maps change. There are new mountains.
I doubt that the imagination can be suppressed. If you truly eradicated it in a child, he would grow up to be an eggplant.
If science fiction is the mythology of modern technology, then its myth is tragic.