brainstorming questions:

[thanate]

1) (direct) mid-size (10-12 ish?) red haired girl, lives on a giant sci-fi tourbus that goes through faerie. Likes machines. What's her name?

2) (tangential) What happens to your personal mythologies (the monster under the bed, your imaginary friend, the fantasy land you were going to end up in when you stepped through the mirror or whatnot...) when you grow up? [[do they change & stick with you, disappear when forgotten, carry on without you in some other direction?]]

All answers welcome. (personal/hypothetical/references to works of fiction/etc)

Comments

[kittymaru.livejournal.com]

That's a huge question. It's like I believe I can do anything and I believe in love and that dead people sometimes talk to me and that I might just be delusional but only sane people question their sanity.

I keep the Jesus rug on my fridge. Martel is Batman, but I'm Wolverine. (Martel really isn't Batman. He's something else entirely.) Aliens still haunt the shadows of my bedroom at night. Night lights don't keep them away. Neither do cats. They're transdimensional. I don't sleep with any lights on. I like to see the moon. Always have.

We also swam in the river behind my neighborhood and swung from the ropes in the trees like Tarzan girls and waded through water rife with watermoccasins and got eaten alive by tics. Sometimes I still climb trees.

If I were to wipe them and sell them, the personality as doll would cease to exist. When I sell a doll, it's gone. That's it and finite.

Have you heard that overpalyed song, "No Handlebars"?? I think that's about what you're asking. I find it compelling.

Maya is the missing piece of Jacqual and Mr. Ibis.

[thanate.livejournal.com]

If I were to wipe them and sell them, the personality as doll would cease to exist. When I sell a doll, it's gone. That's it and finite.

But where does "gone" go? Because who they were is still in your head somewhere... (actually, that's maybe one of my mythologies, that there's something strange/mystical/creepy about things actually disappearing. I mean, you have something, and you know you haven't taken it out of the house, how can it possibly not be there? And yet, there are things that have disappeared for *years* and I'm absolutely positive they weren't gotten rid of...)

Have you heard that overpalyed song, "No Handlebars"?? I think that's about what you're asking. I find it compelling.

I hadn't heard it, but just did a lyrics search. Interesting-- I think that's less about mythology (the bits that stick with you and turn up repeatedly) than dream or potential (I could do all this stuff, but the corollary is you have to give up some of it to achieve the rest) which is related but not quite what I was getting at.

Um... maybe a better example-- it's like Labyrinth, where all the people she meets/befriends, and even the labyrinth itself, are all her childhood toys sitting around her room. And they come back for her when she thinks she's ready to give them up. Except that other people have other takes on this theory. I'm looking for the range of options of what might happen to people's abandoned or forgotten early myths.