My imagination is a closet. The door is open only at certain times, closed at other times. The journey to enter my imagination begins when I enter through my left ear, go up a set of synapses, down a dark hallway filled with neurons, and stop in front of the last door on the right. My imagination is now triggered. The door opens and I am in a good environment. I find myself at school, or on a bus, but mostly at my desk in my library. My desk is messy at first glance, but for me, it is very organized and makes me feel really comfortable. When I am at my desk, I am frequently ready to open my imagination's door.

I can open my imagination when I am in a deep sleep, too. There I find a big mess of technology. There are wires and cables and cords for multiple components strewn everywhere. And there are rows and rows of computers. When I visit my imagination, the temperature is a constant 60°F. It is dark, except for the lights beaming from electronic equipment and monitors. The monitors display my many different ideas and thoughts. The huge flat screen plasma reveals my biggest, craziest ideas. I only hear the clicking of the keyboards and, of course, music. I smell overheating machinery, and ink cartridges. I taste mint chocolate chip iced cream and pumpkin pie. The textures in my world include leather (chairs), wood (desks and working areas), steel (hard drives), plastic (keyboards), and stone (flooring).

There is ALWAYS a lot of movement and activity in my imagination. It is where I think of ideas which inspire me to do things and think things that are possible to achieve in the real world.

My Spirit, My Declaration

Innovative, complex, responsible