January 16, 2014 by musehick
Are you excited about what you are writing? If not, set it aside. If the shit that you sit down daily to pore over and hammer at causes you pain, why the fuck do you bother? Creativity does not have to be one long protracted mess of pain and anguish, though plenty of people will tell you different.
Some of the things I have written have come out of periods of hardship in my life – fiscal, emotional, whatever, but the act of writing has always been something of a release. I have lost the need for the therapeutic aspect of writing to a degree as I have gained more control over my life, but I was relieved to find that, when recently I did need it for that reason, it was a viable option … and best of all, the work that I produced worked and stood by itself.
Lately everything that I read, or watch, or listen to, sets a fire in me, that burns as inspiration, runs down the fuse of creation, and explodes out in a piece of work.
I know I have said these things, or something like them before, and I will probably quote myself again, because these things seem new as I forget and rediscover them. I notice this in myself, and I know that it is a microcosmic replay of that larger scale thing which says writing and poetry, rock n’ roll, and cinema will never die. Iterations may shift, formats may drift, but the creativity will keep rotating on through. It’s a reason to be hopeful, and it’s a reason to be excited.