Yesterday,
I was chatting with a friend about all things creative related … the
conversation ebbed from that to other personal sorts of matters. He began a sentence with this phrase : “My
favorite ex-girlfriend …” I stopped him before he could complete said statement
and marveled at the beauty of the words.
For him, it was simply an admission, something that he was willing to
share. But for me, it sparked
something. It reignited a creative fuel
that has been somewhat stagnant over the last few weeks.
Okay, I’ll
admit it. I haven’t been doing much
writing this month. The weather. The cold.
The snow. Lots of training. Work and thesis. All of these things have been getting in the
way. But, those are all excuses and the
brass tack of the matter is that I just haven’t felt inspired.
The first
time I had bona-fide writers block, I was sure that my craft had left me for
good. I freaked the fuck out; thought
that I’d never write another sentence to save my life, never find another
phrase that felt as good as the ones I’d already written.
That
was ages ago, and with this newest bout … I’ve learned to accept it. To understand that the creative process comes
and goes, and that with it, comes a certain level of introspection and
truth. Hearing the phrase my friend
offered wasn’t so much that his words spawned an immediate piece of writing in
my head. Rather, they started a train of
thought.
So. Last night, after we hung up, I tapped a
short and silly poem using the phrase, except I changed it to ex-boyfriend,
since I’m not into girls. Today, that
poem became a flash piece. And this
weekend, if the steam continues, it will become a short story for a collection
I’ve been nursing along for a few months.
Today,
I’m grateful for the small bits of inspiration that strike just when I think no
one is looking. Thanks, 211.
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