The word imagination comes from the Latin imaginatio, meaning "the forming of a mental image". It entered the English language in the mid-14th century via Old French. Here is how the concept breaks down: Root Word: imaginari (to picture oneself / represent) Core Source: imago (an image, likeness, or ghost)Deepest Origin: The Proto-Indo-European root aim-, meaning "to copy" or "to imitate"Historically, the term was heavily tied to the philosophical concept of "making the absent present," or conjuring up a mental picture of something not currently being perceived by the physical senses.

Roots and Breakdown Image (imago): Refers to a likeness, appearance, or reflection.-ation: A suffix denoting an action or process. Combined, it literally means "the process of creating a mental image."Interestingly, imago shares a Proto-Indo-European root that means "to copy". Therefore, at its very core, imagination is the mind's ability to copy, recreate, and manipulate impressions from the physical world to form entirely new concepts.

In the last few months I have seen famous medieval paintings or paintings up to the 19^th century that move because people have been using AI.

I believe that what makes us human (I do not think cockroaches have that ability) is our ability to “create a mental image”. Furthermore this might lead to the  diluting of human imagination.

Now I avoid all that knowing that when I post one of my photographs or plant scans in this blog, that these images are mine and have no connection to AI.

The photograph here is followed by the original. The original photograph is a b+w almost-portrait reflecting my falling in love with Estela in Great Expectations when I was in the 5^th grade and not liking her mentor Miss Havisham. The colour image is the result of me using my phone to photograph the framed portrait on my living room wall. With my 22-year-old Photoshop 8 I added a bit of saturation.

It was through my imagination and the not so gently pushing of the art directors I worked with (and Vancouver Magazine editor Malcolm Parry) that I developed a personal style which is just about disappeared in this century. An identifiable personal style is the Holy Grail of photography.

Now as few photographers want to face people, talk to them, find mutual connections before taking their portraits (and perhaps using a good studio light) we are left with street photography. I think that particularly in Vancouver, if Fred Herzog would return from the dead, he would be not in the least inspired to take his street photographs as all the bright colours and neon lights are gone.

Worse than sitting at the Van Dusen Flora Hall to watch 100 bad slides of roses (as I did with my Rosemary in 1991) would be to see 100 projected contemporary street photographs taken by local photographers who are no match for that decisive-moment-Guy that was Henri Cartier-Bresson.

Having a personal imagination is important.