stagnant
We are in a rut. I am in a rut. It's been an extremely long time since I've taken pictures consistently; pictures of my spawn do not count. I often forget to take my camera out with me. With a twenty-pounder (give or take... she's been stuffing her face with lots of avocado lately) strapped in front of me, I often feel like I have enough to take out with me and forget to sling my clunky camera over my shoulder. Not around my neck, because I'm not a tourist. Not an Asian tourist wearing white cotton socks with sandals. When I do remember to take my camera, I sometimes forget that I have it on me, so I return home with the same number of exposures remaining as when I left. I think that, in all the time that I've neglected to take pictures, I've lost my eye. The proverbial "they" say that to get out of a block, it's best to just keep at it. Sometimes, I force myself to look around for something, anything, anything even remotely interesting. Is it possible to get out of a creative block if you're forcing yourself and generally dislike what you produce though? Because I go to the same places and walk the same bloody routes to these same places, the landscape hardly changes.
"Look at the big tree!"
"Can you hear the birds?"
"There's a whole line of cars parked along the street."
"The boys are playing hockey on the street."
My little sidekick knows my schpeil. She knows The Big Tree. She knows The Naked Tree (which probably won't be as naked by next week). She knows if I turn left instead of right, and whines her protest in "ehh, ehh, ehh" form. She knows the routine and as a baby, she likes routine.
Perhaps it's the routine that's got me in a rut. Although, ironically, Twyla Tharp cites routine as one of the means to drawing out creativity. While I've got mine down pat, doing pretty much the same thing day in and day out, it has me bored, has me stuck, has me stagnant. I want to move, but I'm not sure where to begin. I'm begging my mind to come up with something good, something of use, something I like. But my cerebrum is currently a fat, useless slob, sitting there mellowing on predictability. Ugh.
I've spent the past week trawling the Internet for inspiration -- chains of art, design, photography and parenting blogs. With the enormity of the Internet, you'd think there really should be something out there to give me a little kick in the ass, or a jolt, if you will. Maybe I wasn't looking in the right places, maybe I wasn't looking hard enough, maybe I was too busy getting distracted by links, but I came up empty. My mental itch hasn't been scratched. Really, Internet, I was expecting more from you. I need just one little spark. Not a bolt. One little push, one nudge, one poke. Something to pull me out of this slump. Something to make me wake up tomorrow, excited to take my camera for a walk, something to make me see the world differently. Something to make me willingly and happily go through a whole roll of film. Something to rouse my neurons. Something to make the wheels start turning. I don't think I'm asking for very much, am I? This doesn't mean I'm giving up you, Internet. I know you've got a trove of good stuff buried in your many folds. Between you and the pile of library books I have scattered around the apartment, I'm mostly certain I'll come up with even just a little something at some point. I'll just have to keep at it.