My thoughts are prolific. I like that I have a lot of ideas and insights. Yet, my mind overwhelms itself. I don’t know if this is exactly unique, but I think my thoughts do have a unique flavor. I “think funny” as my sister once said. Some people like the things it helps me to create (especially writings). (While writing this post, I’m fighting off tangents of ideas that would take this in a different direction.) Yet I am not a prolific writer. I like the idea of being one especially since it would be in the spirit of my favorite creative person to ever live, The Artist, also known as Prince. However, I am not on par with him in work habits or in orientation to finding a distinct voice. I like to explore, but I don’t follow one direction. I’m impulsive then I am focused. I am profound then I’m mundane. I’m mindful then I am mindless. I continue to practice sporadically, yet I don’t know what of substance I will produce. I have a need to tame my tendencies towards impatience and impulsivity along with tendencies to succumb to personal pride, fear of failure, fear of the responsibility of success and/or notoriety, confused intentions, an unreliable memory, and other character traits that make me feel reluctant to work through the fog of creating. (Is this the type of “resistance” addressed in The War of Art?) I have not produced enough to be confident. Still, people (such as teachers, professors, and colleagues) have complimented me on my writing for as long as I can remember. The first scene (posted here previously) of a potential novel gained me a few likes and even follows for which I am pleased. I cannot deny the drive to create and share. Despite this I wonder: how do you determine the direction in which to go when there are so many possibilities? To answer this I would guess the question is: “what is my most primary, truest intention” for all of this? My first scene of Parker’s Story now feels like a “false start”. I revised the last scene almost without thinking when reviewing it recently just as I give my focus and attention to a new vision I’ve decided to keep to myself for very practical reasons. Much like this one, it now feels like this newest vision is of a story I have to write in a way that is very real to me. It originates from something deeply rooted in my personal experience of living, which also is not as pleasant or initially satisfying. My perspective could obviously change after April 21, 2017 when I “put pen to paper” to begin the first draft. If I were like Prince, I could work on them both while seducing you with a bed of short stories that may or may not ever see “the light of day” officially yet would nevertheless be shared (for free) with an update on the progress toward my “silent” project. There’s never a shortage of ideas. There is only the limitation of dedicated time for my writing practice. Perhaps, if I take the time to declutter my work spaces and streamline my activity in other ways, this could change. It only takes a bit of creativity and a little focused effort. I think I have a few ideas.
My thoughts are prolific. I like that I have a lot of ideas and insights. Yet, my mind overwhelms itself. I don’t know if this is exactly unique, but I think my thoughts do have a unique flavor.