I’m starting today with so many things I want to do and even more ideas. It’s both wonderful and frustrating. Certainly invigorating, though also easy to become paralyzed by decision overload. Here’s an attempt to share a little bit of what it’s like inside my head right now…
Baby steps to get back in the habit of daily poetry and blogging.
This is hardly a new concept for creatives—the naturally occurring limitations that necessitate creation and how by defining a thing we take away so much of it. What makes this poem interesting to me, however, was that I was originally thinking in terms of how people interact, communicate with, and relate to one another. Are our relationships really all that different from works of art or acts of creation?
Some fascinating new ideas about the nature of consciousness in the universe, courtesy of philosopher Philip Goff and his concept of panpsychism, came out today in Scientific America, inspiring this morning’s poem.
Was thinking this morning about character agency in storytelling and how powerful a force it is. Remove it and you remove the heart and soul of the story. That got my thinking about agency in our lives. How do we express it and what happens when we do?
Feeling very meta today about the act of creation and the way we play with ideas and stories in our minds. I’ve had one in my head for half a year now, more or less stagnating, watching all my other ideas pass it by. Then a few days ago I had a new idea, one that would be a stretch to make work. It had heart and structure but lacked originality. Then came the old idea, which I think has a great concept but the characters weren’t leaping out at me and the story wasn’t wanting to shape. They came together like they were meant to be. It’s tough letting go of pieces of each of them, but the new thing is far more powerful and I can’t wait to bring it to life.
This has been an amazing journey and experiment in he creative process. I’ve missed more days than I’d like but at the same time I’ve written so much more poetry than I ever thought that I could. I’ve now built up a not insubstantial collection of poems.
In so doing, I’ve almost completely filled up my poetry notebook. It’s time for a new one and that both saddens me that I’m done with this one and excites me because I’ll be starting with a new one. Maybe it’s just a writer thing, but that does a little something for me.