What is it about the carousel that continues to fascinate me?
It was my favorite thing as a child to see people getting on/off the horses and carts, go round and round, and on/off again. The carousel never goes anywhere, staying where they are, with blurry vision of shining metals, mirrors and colorful paints. The dreamlike vision fascinated me incessantly.
Old, classic carousels made of sturdy woods with tired-looking paints are my favorites, as dramatic transformation of fading beauty to otherworldly vision is much more pronounced once the carousel starts moving. I despise the horses/carts made of plastics, with their forced cheekiness and cold shines.
As much as I wanted to get on the carousel, I always find myself disappointed once I am on it. The blurry jewellery box is no more, and all you see is the reality; of some grandparents waving to their grandchildren, sulking toddlers waiting in line, and blurry vision of other rides and passers-by.
This is how I learned that something in life are better seen from outside than inside, and cruel reality awaits once the anticipation is replaced by 'now' and 'past'.
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