A Place of Inspiration
George Bastow
If inspiration was a place, it would be a realm of continuous
creativity where imagination rules, where thoughts come to life
and characters animate: flying, walking, talking, laughing and
screaming around a world of fantasy.
A world where characters and stories intertwine with those of
Dickens and Dahl. Works of the imagination run free within a
realm of words and tales where pages of parchment fall from the
sky filled with the notes of classic authors of immortal fiction.
Where murderers and villains roam free, poets converse with
sorcerers, as demons and evil creatures battle mythical beasts.
Warriors and professors walk through the diverse landscape as
vampires talk between themselves over a glass of blood; zombies
crouch over the open skull of an unidentified author desperate for
a taste of the extraordinary brain.
Tolkien sits conversing with his own characters and frantically
composes extraordinary previously unheard tales from Middle
Earth as in the distance a dragon breathes fire, boilding a kettle
from which a wizard with a longbeard pours himself a cup of tea.
Witches stand over boiling pots cackling as a walking skeleton
dips a finger into the steaming broth, tastes and pours in the
blood of a child.
In a land where leprechauns exchange tales with spectres and
sorcerers do battle; ghosts, zombies, wizards and mythical
creatures roam the entirety of their world. Where cries of
laughter and pain weave into all the music known to man, where
everything can be heard from the high and powerful tones of
classical composers like Beethoven to the reggae vibrations of
Bob Marley.
Imagination is the only limit in a place of inspiration.