Wild Thing

Have you seen "Where The Wild Things Are"? I recommend it. I didn't finish the film but I got a little taste of the Rumpus. I started thinking about my Wild Thing and what my own fierce wonderland would look like. Would it be filled with beasts and twigs and desert infinitudes? Max was perfect in that land, with his onezy and tin crown. I'd like to go with him there and stand underneath the looming trees, cozying up to Carol's furry paws. There's nothing better than a secret well kept, the idea of pure imagination and a land that only imagination can access. Cinema/ literature/ society tells us that children are the secret keepers. We believe that kids have clear eyes with which to see the hidden neon hieroglyphics of the world and that with age, the colors dim and dissolve into the smog. Let's refuse to let this happen. An intellect or capability for discerning magic doesn't need to stand in opposition to the "real world." After all, nothing's more magical than reality. I don't know what my Wild Thing looks like but I have a singing intuition that she wears tortoise shell glasses and smokes a pipe. There's only one way to find out.