Sometimes I wish I lived in 17th or 18th or 19th century Russia or France or England -- the places where wealthy patrons who had reached to limits of their numbing wealth would subsidize painters and musicians and writers ... freeing them to live and imagine a create.
And if I lived in such an era, I too might get paid to imagine and create.
Can anyone imagine how rich we would all be if we got paid to imagine? We would be rolling in dough ... at which point our imaginations might peter out as we supped on humming-bird tongues... again!
For all the dangers, still it would be nice to get paid for imagining, which is about all I'm good for any more. The pressures of a fixed income meeting the monthly bills might be eased and ... well, from here, I really would like it. What remains of the mortgage might be paid at last ... and ... ahhhh!
"If wishes were horses, beggars would ride."