On remembering how to dream

Posted on October 2nd, 2009 by Eric Dodds and currently 8 commenting.

Sometimes asking right questions can make us miss the point. (photo via me, Eric Dodds)

I love it when my parents share life lessons with me. They’ve taught me about insurance, relationships and hot stoves. My dad taught taught me how to fix anything on my car and how to face failure and keep going. My mom taught me to do my best at everything I try and showed me what to look for in a good single malt scotch.

One thing I’ve noticed lately, though, is that many of the lessons I learn now are actually reminders of things I learned in the past and have lost bit by bit over time.

Yesterday Greg Cordell’s son, Griffin, was at Brains on Fire. When I walked by him I noticed that he had a book called “Griffin’s Drawing Book of Art.” Dying to know what was inside, I asked him if he would show me what was in it. As he turned the pages I was amazed to find upwards of 30 drawings of original monsters, all unique and individually named. Even more amazing than the drawings were the stories behind each monster – Griffin had a comic-book-like beginning for each character. As I sat there enchanted by story after story I noticed something in myself that bothered me – I was asking really logical questions about the stories he was telling.

“So this is Fish Man. He was made when a spaceship crashed into the deep part of the ocean and toxic stuff leaked out and got on him and he transformed into a fish-man-monster and started terrorizing people” (sorry if the details are a little off, Griffin).

Before I knew it my mind was asking questions like: “Where in the world did this spaceship come from? Was something driving it? Did it make news, or just turn into a UFO story? What’s this toxic waste stuff? Where did it come from? Did it create other monsters? What kind of fish was he? Does he require water on land or did the toxic waste give him the ability to survive on oxygen?” As my questions started to kill the magic of the story in my mind I felt my adulthood in a very raw way. Not only do those questions not matter to Griffin, they miss the point of an epic story about a monster coming out of the ocean and terrorizing society.

I live in a world of reality – budgets and time-lines force me to ask all of the right questions and make sure that no detail is left unturned. But if those questions are all I’m asking, I’m going to miss the point.

So Griffin, thank you for reminding not to kill the magic of the big story with rationality. Thank you for reminding me to dream. (And you know who I’m coming to for help if I hear about a spaceship crashing into the ocean.)