Playtime is many things to me. It is an indispensable mechanism for coping with the (take your pick) insanity / overload that can often be daily life. It is the natural tool of the imagination. A license to be creative, silly and curious, all at the same time. To let off steam and recharge. It helps me push the ‘what if’ button by letting my mind focus and wander at the same time. It adds the element of fun and uncertainty to even the most mundane daily rituals.
Playtime means playing with my food: I [still] make pictures of landscapes with my dinner. Spinach becomes long leaves of uncut grass, a slab of sliced steak becomes the cracked earth, uncut beets are the blood-red flowers of the meadow, broccoli the trees, and blueberries mixed with smashed up potatoes are the foam-topped crests of ocean waves.
Playtime means envisioning the imaginary: in a sunny sky with fluffy cumulus nimbus clouds, I can see creatures of the earth dueling in dramatic, stop-motion poses. Horses. Dragons. Giraffes. Buffalo. Eagles. Even bunnies. But never whales. I picture the wildlife, both real and mythical, that resides in the giant Douglas firs of our backyard. I repeatedly circle the base of these quiet, green-and-brown giants looking for the portal that is surely seeded among them to the land of elves and hobbits and unicorns.
Playtime means recreating a mythical past: I pick up a seashell conch–one of many–that wash up on our local beach and listen for the nautical echoes of the still undeciphered message from lost Atlantis, and wonder what my first question will be if there is one.
Playtime means exploring microcosms with my digital camera: discovering the worlds within mushrooms, flowers, and fallen leaves with the Extreme Macro mode turned on.
Playtime means turning the conventional on its head: taking a photo of a forest into Photoshop and adjusting its colours and hues to turn it in an alien landscape.
Playtime means literary adventure: picking up a new novel and getting lost in its pages, until I have absorbed the texture and taste of every word, and the skies have grown cold and dark outside. It means taking existing words and giving them new meanings, or creating new words and seeing what stories I can build with and around them.
Playtime means recreating not-to-scale landmarks in my living room: rebuilding a 3D puzzle of the Taj Mahal for the fifth time.
Playtime means physical adventure: riding my bike on the Stanley Park Seawall on a crisp fall day, lobbing the winning shot in tennis in the summer, soaring to the skies in a Cessna Piper single-engine prop plane, or ATVing to the top of Whistler Mountain.
Playtime means dreaming the impossible: in my sleep, I am flying away on unseen wings (many times) as I evade my enemies, winning the lottery (twice!) that will have me set financially for life, and inventing a new chemistry constant (once) that will make me a candidate for this year’s Nobel Prize.
- Daily Prompt: Playtime (dailypost.wordpress.com)
- Daily Prompt: Playtime (theanonymousqueen.wordpress.com)
- Daily Prompt: Playtime (skfip.wordpress.com)