I didn’t do much today during the day, understandably. But that was just fine, because that night was nothing near the return to regular sleeping hours I’d hoped it would be.
I mentioned that we were planning to do a Star Wars marathon sometime in December, right? Well, we were. Some friends and I. All six (episodes, that is). In chronological order, of course. Only…I thought it would be during the day sometime. My friend showed up at my door this afternoon saying they were planning to do it that night. I suppose that really was the only time left before we departed for London, but it was a surprise. Nevertheless, I said I was in. It’s Star Wars!
Star Wars…it’s hard to explain the magic to someone who isn’t a believer. I hope all of you are. Star Wars was a huge part of my childhood; no, scratch that, Star Wars is a huge part of my life.
My parents showed me the first one (Episode IV, which was Episode I back then) when I was…can’t remember how old. Young. I guess it would’ve been between 5 and 10, because we were in the apartment with the pink couch. (That’s how I organise my memories; they’re attached to where we were living at the time, seeing as we changed location every four years with one year intervals in the US. Conveniently, those single years corresponded to my multiples-of-five birthdays.) We didn’t get very far. Darth Vader stepped into the Rebel blockade runner, and I said my stomach hurt. It really did – I don’t know why. I guess I was scared. I was a very sensitive young boy. Haha. Something. We stopped it and that was that. Sometimes I thought I saw Vader’s outline in the darkness of my closet, so I always made sure the doors were closed before I got into bed.
Sometime after that I got a sticker book about Episode IV, the kind where you stick the stickers into the blanks to complete the story. My first Star Wars book…the first of many. I don’t remember really understanding the story but soon after that we tried the film again and made it all the way through.
I loved it – though I can’t remember my reaction to the films, a few things give evidence to the extent I was into the saga. First, I started collecting Star Wars action figures. There was a Toys R Us not too far from where we were living, and they had a whole shelf of them. I used to go there and just look at all of them. The first one I got was Luke Skywalker on a speeder bike, from Episode VI. Came with a green lightsaber, blaster, and removable brown rubber cloak. His knees even bent! That was the first of several. The next might’ve been Grand Moff Tarkin, or Boba Fett. Several years later I even received a cardboard fold-out diorama of the cantina from Episode IV. That was a treat. Even made little cardboard mugs and plates to go in it (yes, I was the type of kid who could get as much enjoyment out of the box something came in as the toy itself – I thank my parents).
Second, in early 1999, posters started appearing in the trains and train stations that I used for going to school. They pictured a desert, what looked like an igloo made out of sand – just like part of Luke’s house in Episode IV – a kid I didn’t recognise, and a shadow I very much recognised – Darth Vader. What was this??? I was intrigued, and very excited. A girl at school told me that another Star Wars movie was coming out. Dude.
IMDB tells me that Episode I came out July 16, 1999, and that was a summer we returned to the States, so I probably saw it in theatres there. Can’t remember. I was into it, though – people put down Episode I so much, and perhaps yes it wasn’t great as a movie, but I wasn’t watching them as movies. I was watching them as stories. Something massive was unfolding in a galaxy far far away; well, unfolded a long long time ago, and these movies were the only connection relating to me what had happened.
That is, until I discovered the books. Sometime during these years I started reading the stories that others wrote, which George Lucas approved. Taking place before the movies, after the movies, even between the movies – I devoured whatever I could get my hands on. By any means possible I was eager to enter into this other universe.
And enter in I did. I wasn’t content to merely consume, I had to be a part of it. And so at some point in all of this I began making up my own stories about my own character in this galaxy, interacting with the characters and plots from the books and films. At night before I drifted off to sleep, or even during the day when I didn’t have anything to focus on (or chose not to), I’d advance my own story in my mind. Sometimes I’d act it out with LEGO, or my action figures. But it all went on in my head, and if all the stories I played out were made into a TV show there would be enough content to fill at least several seasons. I still have those stories up in here, somewhere. I still know exactly where I left off, and every once in a while I revisit my personal saga. Kent Kenobi has been stuck in the hidden New Sith Order base for quite some now, however. Although…I just remembered I got him out of there a few days ago. He’s now in an escape pod headed who knows where.
This is the first time I’ve told anyone about this, come to think of it. People talk about vivid imagination, but is it normal to have such detailed storylines going on in one’s head, all alongside one’s real life? I did this with a bunch of things, though – Pokemon; Magic: The Gathering, when I got into that; Harry Potter, especially when the films came out (I mean, come on – who wouldn’t?). In fact, nearly any time I finished a movie or TV show or book that I really liked, I’d continue or expand the story with me inside it. Any of you do anything like this?
(It wasn’t a huge leap to go from that to making up stories about my actual life; for example, imagining that my day had gone differently. A favourite bedtime activity was taking a situation from the day and imagining how it could’ve gone if I’d said or done something else (something much cooler, of course) or playing out an upcoming situation in my mind (rife with things I would never do or say in real life, of course, and things others would never do or say). A few years ago I woke up, figuratively speaking, to the damage this was doing to me, because I was imagining and wishing for things that I would wouldn’t actually work to achieve, and shying away from taking risks in real life because I could just imagine a different life; escape to it, if you will. I was also reducing others to my conception of them, which was very shallow indeed, seeing as it was basically a projection of myself. But that’s a rumination for another post. In short, I didn’t need World of Warcraft or Dungeons and Dragons, I had my own mind. I have yet to kill off the habits I formed during those many, many years. )
I’m actually going to end this post on this low note simply because I don’t have much to say about the next day (this marathon took up half of it, after all), and this is getting long. Answer my question about imagination in a comment below, I’m really interested to hear about that.
Inspiration's Waiting Room 