We learn about our past and the world around us through stories. They are as old as trees, passed down for thousands of years, from generation to generation. They are the immortals of this Earth and they have a life of their own. As times are constantly changing, so do the stories. They grow, they shrink, they disappear, they give life to other stories. Like a living organism, stories have the power to mutate, to create and inspire, to spread from one corner of this Earth to another. If passed on, stories can outlast anything, even mountains.
The need for stories is embedded in our DNA. We cannot exist without them and, from the first time we hear one, our hunger for stories grows more and more throughout our lives. They live beneath our skin and they open for us an entire wonderland, dare us to close our eyes, and trust in their leading.
Stories evolved, crawled from the cave walls to paper and into our minds, like travelling through a wormhole. They made us feel the fragrance of dead worlds and civilizations, they engraved images of gods and fantastic creatures into our hearts.
A good story has the power to haunt us in our sleep, to ignite our spirit and feed our imagination and sensations with wonder and lust for the unknown. We can drown in a story and still breathe. We can get buried underneath the ruins of a dead city and still exist. Stories are keeping us alive. We live through them and they live through us.
If stories are not told anymore, they die. Do you think we’re still able to create stories that can last for thousands of years?