My Creative Process

My mind races ahead of me at times, with ideas which at first seem easy and then leave me wondering how on Earth am I going to do that.

When I write my stories, the characters take centre stage and lead me down their own merry little paths, which I enjoy. They, the characters, put themselves in the midst of an array of weird and wonderful situations and then look at me, almost pleading, asking for help with moving them along. I try, but sometimes I simply have to leave them where they are as I cannot see a way forward for them as yet.

With my artistic creations I get an idea as to what I want to create, whether in paint, through the digital painting software, or even PowerPoint, and then start. And I then stop, looking at the blank space ahead of me.

It must be the same for both writing and art to get passed that initial block, although I’m not entirely sure whether it’s a case of just start and see what happens.

My initial idea’s there. The means to get that idea into some form of reality is there in front of me. And some kind of destination is there also, although said destination is an extremely fluid one.

But that first push is in a spongy grey area. It’s a soft stumbling block which lately has been holding me back with just a little more gusto than it used to. It absorbs the weakest of my ideas, and leaks out any feeble attempts of a start in a dribbling never-ending flow of self doubt. And this flow of self doubt gets in the way of my creative flow, bringing in turbulence, which further waters down the already fluid destination, splattering it into the mists of an increasingly murky future.

See what I mean? My mind – racing ahead again.

That future, as well as the blank canvas before it, isn’t set. It isn’t a solid unchangeable wall. It may appear murky or blank (depending on where one looks!) but it can be changed by the lick of a brush, the stroke of a pen or the click of a key on a keyboard. I just need to remind myself of that more often. It’s that sponge at the very beginning I need to focus on… to dissolve it away. It doesn’t matter if I create rubbish – the rubbish can be changed; amended; even re-done if needed. After all, that’s the creative process.

It’s a shame to be held back by a sponge, isn’t it? I think I should just dive in once again and see what happens.

Nice for the Time of Year

Questions needed answers
Thoughts needed to be filed
So I lay back and listened
To some music for a while
Looking for a meaning
I settled nice and still
Nothing was forthcoming
‘Though I was very chilled
I asked out for a question
Or a sign, loud and clear,
When a single thought came to me
“It’s nice for the time of year”!

It Within

Light shone through the cracks as though it were escaping the confines of a wicker box. How the light got inside is a mystery for another day – surely the light should be outside? Perhaps that’s where it begins. Within. Light. Darkness. A spark of creation. A void of emptiness. Maybe the level of light, the amount of light, defines the ‘it’.

But if the light, or lack there of, defines the it, the it must always be there. Always has been. And from that, maybe allowing whatever is within to shine triggers light of its own.

Let light escape.