"Joy and pleasure are as real as pain and sorrow and one must learn what they have to teach. . . ." -- Sean Russell, from Gatherer of Clouds

"If you're not having fun, you're not doing it right." -- Helyn D. Goldenberg

"I love you and I'm not afraid." -- Evanescence, "My Last Breath"

“If I hear ‘not allowed’ much oftener,” said Sam, “I’m going to get angry.” -- J.R.R. Tolkien, from Lord of the Rings

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Clogged

Writers talk about being blocked. Anne Lamott says it's really being empty, but I've found that it can be both.

If I'm empty -- no ideas, no focus, no words -- that's fairly easy to deal with. I just do something else for a while. That's probably a major reason that I've explored not only visual arts and writing, but dance, ceramics, flower arranging, sewing and cooking. It comes from an almost pathological need to be making something coupled with an inability to sit still for very long. (I can sit still if something is really, really engaging my mind -- a good book, a good movie. But that's what it takes. Otherwise, constant motion. I fidget.) Soon enough, the batteries are recharged and I'm back at work.

The real problem is when the words or images are there but I can't make them come out right. I call it brain clog, when it's all just in there screaming to get out but gets jammed up at the door. I really write some crap when that happens, if I can write at all, which is by no means necessarily possible, and Lord help me if I'm on a deadline. I can't seem to get focused enough to get a clear thought out.

One thing about other mediums -- you can always dance, or at least take class. It may not be a good class, but you can do it. You can always make a coffee mug. It's creative donkey work, but at least you're making something. If you can't get the words to come out right, or an image to resolve itself, you're screwed. All you've got is blind leads.

And if it goes on for any length of time, there are bad consequences. I get depressed. I mean really depressed. I've talked to other artists about those times when you can't work. One friend, a painter, told me he gets angry and violent. I just drink a lot. And smoke too much.

So that's why this post is so brief. I certainly hope it makes sense.

(I'm thinking of redoing Hunter's Eye completely and folding the Writer's Blog into this one. Hunter at Random, after two years and several false starts, has finally found its voice, and I think there's no reason to keep the two blogs separate any more.

I'm thinking about it.)

2 comments:

Nigel said...

Writer's bolck. Aaargh.

Me too. If I don't write I get blackly depressed. But what I do that works is to write any old crap, just put words on paper, even if they make no sense. After a while, they start making sense.

It works.

Nigel

Hunter said...

It would probably work if I could do it. I can't even get that far. (As witness how long it took me to respond to your comment.)