I mixed and tasted ingredients, I chose evocative names for them, I wrote the spells to recite. Time … tick tock, spent thinking and imagining where a child’s imagination can go, impossible to predict where.
Will these potions be truly magical? The children will wet the tablecloth, laugh at each other and try to hide the prank by keeping the secret, they will try to taste in secret, they will talk about it and remember every word. They will not see a video, they will not attend passive, they will be dirty and messy protagonists but perhaps also clean alchemists.
Grandfather Dominik and grandmother Elisa walked the paths and looked for the most leafy brooms, those that looked like dry little witches upside down with the skirt up and the slender gnarled body down. Collected and brought home, seated, they tied, cut, finished … et voilà, ready flying brooms. Time… tick tock, spent wondering if the children had loved them. Will they be able to fly? When a child climbs on it will have desired it, he will feel it wrinkled in his hands and turning around he will see it long and thick behind him. When he jumps, that moment will feel like he is really flying.
I walked in the woods to look for the most magical branches and think about how to cut them, then I took them home and smoothed them, slowly through the dust, so my magic wands were born. Will they cast spells? Maybe yes, I’m sure they have already given rise to the trepidation of waiting, the desire to brandish them, the indecision of which one to choose. And they are not available on a site, they are not for sale, you cannot order them yourself in front of a monitor. If you want to touch one, you have to be present with the others, you have to study English, you have to speak and wait. They seem ancient behaviors to me, the waiting that feeds the imagination from which ideas and fantasies derive.
The letters left, closed with sealing wax, with the name written one by one, they were not immediately available in a click, they were made to be desired, as a precious thing, like an appointment, they were not on demand. Like the bees, it takes months of continuous, tireless work to produce their precious and golden honey on the farm we can realize the importance of waiting. The amount of time also defines the value of a goal, of a result.
Ideas come “in” time, while “not” you are doing, when you are not connected, when the brain rearranges and finds similarities, asks questions and is less sure of something, the idea comes from indecision, from uncertainty, from diversity of the here and now. Behind every object we create there is always an idea. The objects we have prepared, do magic! They feed fantasies, extend the waiting time. The time, the time it took to make them, the time that passed until the day after tomorrow, the time we will spend together. Time is limited, there is a lot of it and no more and it is the way you decide to spend it that gives value to a project or to a person and few other things deserve my time, more than the imagination of children.