Frightening...
how little creativity I show these days.
Lately, I've been having little brainstorm sessions and random flashes of inspiration, but all of it dwindles away when I sit before the keyboard, or pull a paintbrush towards me.
I feel like a cheap imitator now, someone who can only produce something beautiful when confronted by other people's creations. I need to look at pictures before I can draw. I need to read others' work before I can write my own.
I honestly question my own reasons for writing and drawing nowadays too. That foreign country, which I'd always resolved to explore on my own time, seems to have closed its borders to me. It haunts me - I feel like somebody up there is mocking me for never making time to explore my talents.
Nowadays, I've been consuming at a far higher rate than I've been producing. I read like a maniac - one book after another, and then I'll pick up another book to read on the side. I feel panicked and strangled if I don't have a veritable stack of books to make my way through. Everyday I am confronted with beautiful works of art that others have produced, and I curse my own stupid head, wonder why my wrist and fingers and brain all refuse to cooperate to produce something of the same caliber.
I watch shows like Project Runway because I remain, as always, a jealous spectator, wishing I could do what they do - dream their fantastical dreams, and then solidify them. I wonder when I stopped feeling like I was capable anymore.
I dreamed a wonderful dream the other day. There where golden mansions, all gloriously decayed, floating down a river of sludge. I wanted to capture that image, in a story, but I didn't know what about, and when I tried to draw my dream, it disappeared, like water slipping through my fingers.
Maybe taking a vacation soon is a good idea. I need to get away from all my niggling obligations, all my trivial studying, find myself for a bit. Maybe I need to see the sun rise every once in a while, instead of always watching the same walls within my house. I miss the sun rise, and that feeling it brought with it - that taste on the air of something exciting just about to happen, something amazing just over the horizon.
Lately, I've been having little brainstorm sessions and random flashes of inspiration, but all of it dwindles away when I sit before the keyboard, or pull a paintbrush towards me.
I feel like a cheap imitator now, someone who can only produce something beautiful when confronted by other people's creations. I need to look at pictures before I can draw. I need to read others' work before I can write my own.
I honestly question my own reasons for writing and drawing nowadays too. That foreign country, which I'd always resolved to explore on my own time, seems to have closed its borders to me. It haunts me - I feel like somebody up there is mocking me for never making time to explore my talents.
Nowadays, I've been consuming at a far higher rate than I've been producing. I read like a maniac - one book after another, and then I'll pick up another book to read on the side. I feel panicked and strangled if I don't have a veritable stack of books to make my way through. Everyday I am confronted with beautiful works of art that others have produced, and I curse my own stupid head, wonder why my wrist and fingers and brain all refuse to cooperate to produce something of the same caliber.
I watch shows like Project Runway because I remain, as always, a jealous spectator, wishing I could do what they do - dream their fantastical dreams, and then solidify them. I wonder when I stopped feeling like I was capable anymore.
I dreamed a wonderful dream the other day. There where golden mansions, all gloriously decayed, floating down a river of sludge. I wanted to capture that image, in a story, but I didn't know what about, and when I tried to draw my dream, it disappeared, like water slipping through my fingers.
Maybe taking a vacation soon is a good idea. I need to get away from all my niggling obligations, all my trivial studying, find myself for a bit. Maybe I need to see the sun rise every once in a while, instead of always watching the same walls within my house. I miss the sun rise, and that feeling it brought with it - that taste on the air of something exciting just about to happen, something amazing just over the horizon.