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

Entering a Contest!!

I entered a writing contest yesterday and you can do. It was pretty interesting as contests and completely free to do. I also found the concept rather fascinating and I have linked my title to the contest page. You have until April 30th until it closes.

There is really only one rule for this contest and that is that the story that you enter must be no longer then 25 words. That is it. A title and then a story and it can't be more then 25 words. I really found the process kind of amazing and looking at peoples different entries I was impressed by their cleverness.

Vampires Kiss

As Vlad sank his sparkling fangs into her neck, she couldn't help but wonder if perhaps "Twilight" had been a lie.

There I just entered it again. Why don't you give it a try.

Thursday

Good morning folks. It looks like another pretty day in Oregon. The temperature has finally dropped to a more comfortable level, at least for me, and I am enjoying it. Right now I am enjoying by typing this blog, watching Community on Hulu which I love. One of the things that I like doing when the weather is nice is to either read or work on the computer with the windows open and the fresh air coming. Do not believe those laptop commercials on television!! I know from experience that it is next to impossible to work on a laptop outdoors.

Oh, sure they want you to think you can take your work out to the park. But, that just isn't true. I am not sure why the marketing people behind these commercials seem to think of this as a selling point. For me the selling point is the ability to go someplace and have a cup of coffee or tea and do your work there. I think people refer to these places as coffee shops. But, anyway I just do not think that working outdoors on a computer is that big of a deal. If I wanted to work outdoors I would be a lumberjack.

Now, that would be fun. I would stride around my mountain top wearing my red checkered flannel and my orange suspenders. I would sing jaunty logging songs to myself as I cut down trees and cleared my land. Then, after putting in a hard days labor I would return to my cabin, hang up my double-headed axe, and sit down to a hearty dinner. But, wait, why is my half-wolf and half-mastiff dog Goliath barking. I better check my security cameras. Oh, I see it is a black sedan probably government agents coming to drag me back in. Damn it!! I left that life behind me when they left me to die on a hillside in Vietnam. I won't go back to it. I am a logger now. The only person I answer to is Mother Nature she tells me what trees to cut down.

I begin each climbing up onto the roof of my cabin, that I built from fallen logs, and I take an air bath. There I listen as Mother Nature whispers to me of which one of my tree brothers needs to be culled from the group. The weak and the sickly, the ones that are holding back the strong from rising up. These are the ones that must be cut down. They must be toppled so that their brothers can grow strong and tall. That is what will continue to make tree society safe.

I shall now retreat to my bunker so that the government agents do bot bother me. If you need me please leave a message with Mother Earth I will receive it upon her winds.

Monday

Well I realized that my break from blogging really became quite an extended one. I did not mean for that to happen. But, I think, as I have mentioned before that often what fuels my blogging is me being righteously indignant about something and I just have not been feeling all that worked up. I suppose that is a good thing. I think it is good for my blood pressure at least.

I am on my vacation this week basically so I am going to try to stay busy writing and I hope that means I can do some stuff on here that may be topical and news related with out me ranting away about something though there are no guarantees. What is funny to me is that having said that I do not feel like I have anything to add to that right now. I may try to look up some experimental writing techniques just to see what they are like and if I am able to do them. So stay tuned dear readers I hope I can actually do some work on this during the week.

"Leaves are Falling, Come Down is Calling"

I realize that yesterdays post was pretty dark and if you were or are a first time reader thanks to my friend Christopher linking me from Word Around The Net I just want to let you know that I am not usually so dark. I mean there are times where the music I listen to and the movies I like would lend one to think that I operate in some sort of gothic fog but those rumors are untrue. Well mostly untrue. I do like a good crushed velvet jacket preferably black or dark red and I would wear some dark eye shadow if I could get away with it.

I am after all riding the train and as I have noted before riding the train is what gentlemen do. I would also wear either a nice powdered wig or a hat. It would depend of course upon the season and perhaps what ever festive event that I had been invited to attend. If the weather was dry I would be with out my top coat but I would have my cane and my hat as I entered the train car. But in times of inclement weather I would need my splendid top coat and I would need my manservant to follow me with my umbrella. A gentlemen does not carry his own umbrella oh no. Indeed carrying your own umbrella would get you banished to the luggage car on my train.

Gentleman only please in my cabin. Perhaps you would like a nice glass of sherry or port to sip as we glide almost magically along the rails. What's that you say? This is your first time aboard the train. Well, then by all means take a seat and gaze out the windows as we roll along. No need to fear bandits on this route sir as the Kings men have long cleared the tracks of any obstacles that may have lain in our path. Besides, I have my trusty sword cane and flint lock to defend us. What do you mean you have no weapon? Why a true gentleman always travels armed. What would you if we happened upon a ruffian or perhaps a young damsel in distress? One must be prepared for all events. One never knows the obstacles that life may throw in their path. Oh do not look downcast sir! I did not mean to shame you. I only mean for you to be educated upon the path of a gentleman. Oh you must leave the train? Fare thee well, I shall see you anon.

Thus ends today's adventures in the mind of the gentleman philosopher L. Andrew C. He will return tomorrow with more tales of adventure and ribaldry upon the tracks of Oregon.