Tuesday, February 9, 2010


"The world is but a canvas to the imagination." - Henry David Thoreau

There are days when I sit in front of the computer waiting. Simply waiting. Fingers poised on the keys, ever hopeful that the words just at the tip of my tongue will spring themselves onto the page. Sometimes the wait lasts for mere moments, or a handful of hours, and at other times the days drag into weeks and I'm left tearing out my hair. The creative process can be unpredictable; you're never quite sure when the flow will cease temporarily. And despite what we believe, it is just temporary. The well never runs dry because the simple act of being, and living, constantly refills it. But when that flow is temporarily blocked it can't be forced with anger, frustration, or even despair. Sometimes it can be coaxed, enticed with promises of reward. But more often than not, it's a waiting game for when the time is right, and we're most receptive to receive. Inspiration - where does it come from? Yesterday I said inspiration was born out of new experiences, and that's partly true. That's why it's so important to expose yourself to a world outside your comfort zone, to take risks that tests your limits. But it's just as important to see the commonplace with new eyes, to rediscover and realize that familiarity does not always breed contempt. Why is it that after we're constantly exposed to something, we stop seeing it all together? Or when ritual becomes habit, how quickly we take it for granted. Some say it's over stimulation, a need to shut off the constant flow of images, sounds, and feelings that overwhelm us. I don't agree it's just sensory overload, but how we use it to distract ourselves from paying attention. Inspiration is all around us, within us, disguised as everyday norms or those things that are so extraordinary they cause an inner shift of reality within us. But who's to say what is extraordinary for one applies to everyone? Wonder is in the eye of the beholder, individually unique to each of us. Inspiration is abound, just waiting to be accessed by the artist. One simply cannot exist without the other.

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