Where Do My Readers Come From?

Tuesday, June 04, 2013

Creativity...

What happens when the creative well goes dry? Do you search for inspiration or does it have to happen on its own? What does inspiration even mean? If you have taken the time to search it out does it stop being inspiration at that point and is it just you using your own built in creativity? I suppose that their is no real answer to these questions and I am just kind of killing some time in the hopes that all of this writing causes something to pop into my head that lets me feel like I am being creative. But so far nothing is happening at all.


The Engine Driver - The Decemberists

There is a line from a Decemberists song - "I am a writer, a writer of fictions." I feel like that sometimes but I don't think that I do it very well and I honestly would rather write about honest things. That isn't always the easiest thing to do though because for me the honest things usually come from an emotional spot and I do not always have access to that emotional spot. I wonder sometimes if the emotional well that I draw from has a certain limit to its capacity and I am only able to draw from it when it is full. Perhaps that is what keeps me sane or should I say a level of sane? I just don't know. I do know that I enjoy writing and when it is going well there is often nothing else that I would rather be doing even if in the process I feel like my heart is being wrenched out of me or my tears are making it hard for me to see.


16 Military Wives - The Decemberists

There is just something that I truly love when as I write the words flow out of me and I see them appear in front of me on the computer screen. It energizes me as it continues and as my fingers move faster and faster and the words appear. It isn't like everything that I write down are genius words of wisdom but in the midst of the process it certainly feels like that is the case and when I am writing from an honest place it certainly feels like there is some added weight to what I am doing. I know that for me, when I write it does tend to be stream of consciousness stuff and so there usually has to be something that has triggered the thought or the effort.


Here I Dreamt I Was An Architect - The Decemberists

Sometimes it is as simple as the perfume someone is wearing or the clothes they have on. It could be some perceived slight that only I have picked up on and is not even real. But at whatever emotional level I am writing from it is real to me. In today's case it is a man wearing a plaid long sleeve shirt that he has buttoned up to his neck and black horn rimmed glasses. This bugs me and I am honestly not sure why. I know that he smacks of hipster from his full beard all the way down his skinny jeaned clad legs to his black Vibram 5-finger shoes or whatever it is they are called. It shouldn't bug me but oh it does. It does!


White Tooth Man - Iron and Wine

I shouldn't rail against the Hipster as I am one of them. I wonder if that is what frustrates me. I know that the way that I dress and the glasses I wear and the music I listen to are choices I have made at an honest level and I do so without any level of irony or detached amusement. I guess I wonder at the authenticity of others who look like I do. Is it jealousy? Perhaps it is. I honestly do not know. I do know that seeing the Hipster causes a visceral reaction in me that I am not always able to control as well as I would like to. This is all despite my attempts at being zen and detached. Perhaps that is my sin. Do I care to much? I wonder sometimes.


Your Fake Name Is Good Enough For Me - Iron and Wine
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