This is a hole in a crumbling brick wall. As it stands (barely), it is a window of opportunity for anyone with the creative ability to step through it and into another world.
Unfortunately, it isn’t my wall. My wall was different, and it took me to a different place; to many different places.
I’ve looked at the image above and tried to find an angle that takes me to where I want to be, but it can’t. The bricks are wrong, the hole is wrong and although it can still serve it’s purpose, it isn’t as right as my wall was.
My mistake? I took my wall for granted. For eight years, in the wind and the rain, in the snow and the sun, I walked past the wall and on almost every occasion I dared to take just a few imaginary steps through that crumbling brickwork into the worlds of my imagination.
Day by day I watched as the odd brick tumble from that fragile frame. I watched, but I didn’t see.
And then one day, it wasn’t there. At some point, one particular odd brick had tested the fragility of my portal just too far and it had all come down in a sorry pile of stone and dust.
It is only now, as I look at the image above, that I realised I should have spent more time making notes; taking pictures. I should have made the effort to visit some of those worlds whilst I had the chance; when the places and the characters were still fresh in my head.
Will I still visit those places? It’s hard to tell. Through my mind’s eye I can still see the wall as it stood proudly against the elements and time itself. Through scattered notes in my notebook I can still trace footsteps not yet made into those worlds.
Yet, I can barely hear the conversations when I used to know every word, and I can barely follow paths that I used to walk. Somehow, I feel some of these visions in my head crumble just like the wall – brick by brick.