I’m so glad it’s Friday and that I have no plans this weekend. No, glad isn’t a strong enough adjective. I’m ecstatic, elated and – wait, let me check the thesaurus – euphoric. It’s been a week of overworking, overeating and over-thinking. I’m so tired of writing for other people; some more than others. I know I shouldn’t complain when business is good, but tonight I have to write just for me.
It’s been a while since my last post (sounds a lot like a confession – where did that come from?), although I’ve continued to enjoy reading and commenting on the blogs I follow. For me, creative writing has to be habitual to keep the momentum going. Once I get out of the habit because I’m busy, distracted or don’t really want to put out there what’s in my head, it takes a while to begin again.
So, what have I been up to, besides working, since my last post? I read Wilkie Collins’ “Woman in White,” took a Florida vacation, had an epoxy floor installed in my garage, let my hair grow out, and gravitated back and forth between political satire and political reality; in other words, between laughter and nausea. I wrote some poetry too. This poem was written high above the clouds:
During the buoyancy of flight,
I feel ever compelled to write.
Over the clouds and cities and water,
The words are spiraling out of order.
My hunger to create is insatiable,
Like a caged animal that becomes unstable.
When images are prolific but words not,
Nonsense poetry without a story or plot
Is the result that yields the writer’s frustration,
Longing for the quintessential inspiration.
When we write for a client or employer, we have to write without inspiration. As Hugh Grant’s character exclaimed in Music and Lyrics, “Inspiration is for amateurs.” But when it comes to creative reading, it has to be inspirational, or at least habitual.