The 2015 MWF has come and gone for yet another year so I thought I’d share some of my scribbles. Although it wasn’t my favourite MWF, it was so lovely to immerse myself in the creativity and ideas of like minded people and to soak up all their wordy goodness. This year, unlike others, I found myself wanting to note take less and enjoy the moment more so, that’s what I did! Before you ask, I’m still undecided on as to which session was my favourite – I keep to-ing and fro-ing between Will Self’s interview for Books and Arts Daily and Coetzee, Kennedy & Malouf: Three Stories. Sessions I attended and favourite little gems below. Continue reading
I know when I’m in the zone – when I’m writing something more than the usual meh; when I’m actually onto something – when I feel like I’m wrestling. When it’s not easy. When the words hang somewhere between excruciating and ecstatic and summoning them is laborious, at best. It’s like they are a delicate extension of my hair and they’re caught, actually more than caught, they’re knotted and teased expertly to the hundreds of individual spindles of a wire brush. Pull too hard and I rip my hair out from its roots, give up or don’t pull hard enough and well, I get stuck. Continue reading
Lately it seems as though wherever I turn, inspiration follows. Perhaps I’m more open to it; perhaps it’s this glorious spring weather (I do tend to feel quite different in different seasons – maybe spring’s the season to feel ‘lighter’). Either way, I don’t really care as I’m quite enjoying this feeling of fruitfulness – so much so that I thought I’d take a quick little moment to share some of my sources of inspiration.
I simply cannot stop reading. Let me repeat this to make sure that you understood – I simply CANNOT stop reading. Any spare moment I have, my head’s in a book… or five. And if I’m out, I’m buying books. Isn’t it obvious that that comes with the job, you say. Well yes it is bloody obvious but it doesn’t make it any less expensive or life consuming for my poor dear spouse. Here’s a wee glance over my latest purchases and reads: Continue reading
The dog outside the window where I’m sitting is trembling in its skin. It knows how I’m feeling.
The music inside the cafe where I’m sitting is wheezing through the speakers. It knows how I’m feeling.
My pen, angled against the page where I’m sitting is not moving. It knows how I’m feeling.
The inspiration is there, dripping constantly like a leaking tap, but not much more is happening. The drip, drip, drips are build, build, building. Inside I feel water logged and burst worthy. Water balloon like. But the balloon of me is sealed tight. Knotted perfectly. Nothing, is escaping. Not a single one of those teeny drips.
An outpouring is inevitable. It’s just a matter of when; when those laborious waters will break so that I can birth the beast within – I say beast but I mean it in the most affectionate of ways.
Waters come forth. Surge. Creativity, I will you. Flow. Preferably now. If you have to, later.
I’m here. I’m waiting. Let’s go.