I love to write, I always have. It’s always been a way for me to unclog my brain and help release a lot of gunk I manage to stuff inside my head. With anything that we love to do though, sometimes the words just won’t come. Sometimes the brush won’t paint, the pencil won’t sketch, the keys won’t play, the notes won’t fit, sometimes. As frustrating as those times may be, I am doing my best to find a way to the silence that is being offered and not give voice to all the negativity my brain likes to spew at me. Oh I’m sure you know that voice, the one says “Come on, you have nothing to write today, and you call yourself a writer?” The voice that assures you that no one is reading your stuff anyway, or interested in your art, or wants to see your photographs. That’s the voice of anxiety and pressure, the voice that can break so many people, and destroy dreams of creating, not just for other people, but for yourself. When I write, I want there to be a purpose, even if it’s self-serving. I don’t want to write because “people” say it’s good for the business, I want to write because I have something to say, and sometimes (yes, it’s rare), I don’t have anything to say. Enter gospel choir, singing an “Ahhhhh” in beautiful harmony as the bright light of an empty page begins to fill with images of support and inspiration. Fine, maybe that imagery was a bit much, but the message is that it’s ok not to have anything to say, not to have a subject to paint, or a note to play. Once you give yourself permission to be still, to be silent, then you will find the words, the brushstrokes, and the tune, and the door to creativity will once again be open.
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