“The very first thing I ever remember seeing with my own eyes was a young man walking across a bridge. He had a curly moustache and an attitude of confidence verging on swagger. He carried in his hand a disproportionately large key of a shining yellow metal and wore a large golden or gilded crown. The bridge he was crossing sprang on the one side from the edge of a highly perilous mountain chasm, the peaks of the range rising fantastically in the distance; and at the other end it joined the upper part of the tower of an almost excessively castellated castle. In the castle tower there was one window, out of which a young lady was looking. I cannot remember in the least what she looked like; but I will do battle with anyone who denies her superlative good looks.
…I saw it through a window more wonderful than the window in the tower; through the proscenium of a toy theater constructed by my father and that (if I am really to be pestered about such irrelevant details) the young man in the crown was about six inches high and proved on investigation to be made of cardboard…I have no shadow of recollection of what the young man was doing on the bridge, or of what he proposed to do with the key; though a later and wearier knowledge of literature and legend hints to me that he was not improbably going to release the lady from captivity…(T)here was another crowned gentleman who had a beard… and we should not need much more converging evidence to convict him of having locked up the lady in the tower. “
from “The Autobiography of G. K. Chesterton
When Ingmar Bergman was a boy, for Christmas one year, his brother received a little theater (toy cimatoscope?) that projected a little movie onto the wall. When his brother opened the toy, little Ingmar burst into tears, became inconsolable and would not open any more gifts. He cried himself to sleep. In the wee hours when all were sleeping, he took the toy and played gleefully with it until others awoke. Such was the beginning of his love of theater.
from “The Soul’s Code” by James Hillman