On some stormy days, the overcast clouds look like blankets on a bed that oscillates, the light that filters in from the sun above; I imagine pillars holding up the sky. Stories of the imagination can make the sky anything a storyteller wishes it to be.

Imagine there’s a sailboat near the San Francisco Bay Bridge. It’s sailing near Treasure Island; the fog cancels it, it’s flowing fast, and it’s out of view. Think of this city; imagine it wasn’t there, and only a lone house exists; what is supposed to be the city of San Francisco? It is covered with forest and strange fanciful imaginary sailing ships in configuration and imagination made of wood traveling upon the waters. Many of these ships resemble small cities floating on the water.

One day with the sun, as the evening, then night approaches, the light on the world changes as sunset comes, the reflections on the city become an orange-reddish bluish gray, then almost monochromatic, bluish pink gray, the waters transform into a deep hue off gray and blue gradually becoming darker and then black. It’s fun to observe the changing shades of gray. Imagination transforms them into strange buildings or cities of the fantasy world. The colors or the world can stimulate the inspiration for stories.

Robert J. Matsunaga