It has been awhile since I have been able to write without disruption of school, homework, and stress from work, sickness, etc. and I am feeling the dreamer creep back into me.
I started feeling the slow warmth of creativity when this weekend, for my anniversary, we took a long walk around Borders. When I crossed the threshold into the land of words, I could hear tiny, incomprehensible words coming from all directions. With each step, they grew louder, but not clearer. I headed for the fiction section and upon turning into the first aisle it looked like a candy store. Bright colors, rich textures, shiny objects abound. I reached out and touched the spine of a red book and I could hear it saying “write, write again,” as clearly as I could hear the pages of the book the person next to me was reading, turn. With every touch of my finger to a spine, the voices changed, but the message was the same “write, write again!”
My process of writing is probably not as unique as I think, but here it goes: I have to dream it into life. Whether it is a casual day-dream or a wake me up at 2:00 a.m. and write it down, it has to come from somewhere deep inside. Like the proverbial can of worms, it has to be opened. I think this is why I go for such long bouts of not writing; because I don’t dream it, therefore, it will not come.
When I have stressed it is like cholesterol blocking my creative veins. I can’t do much beyond surviving without creating more stress. When I have those paths wide open my dreams come back, thus my writing begins again to move freely from my thoughts to the keys clicking away.
So, I am dreaming and creating new worlds again and I couldn’t be happier.