Trying to be creative at the best of times is difficult. When asked to make something creative, which inherently means giving something of yourself, you have to harness the creative energy within, or create something that just might not be there at that particular instant. In order to do so, people hide themselves in studios, or need to be outside, listen to music that inspires them, or need dead silence to hear themselves think. Some need nighttime, some sunshine. A few like coffee, most like beer
I don’t know exactly what it is, that helps me just yet, but I can tell you what it is not. Please read below for a brief transcript of events that took place shortly after I sat down to write tonight.
Mike stomping down the stairs, Grady in tow, crying his cranky little heart out.
Brittany: Mike.. seriously I just need like 10 minutes.
Mike: Brittany, just keep writing I just need to do a few things. Don’t worry!
Mike puts Grady in the swing. Forgets to turn it on. Starts flapping garbage bags to open them like it’s his job. Grady is now crying. Mike is now moving things out from under the stairs. Now things are falling.
Ben : Daaaaaddd I want you to play NHL with me!!!
Belle: Mooooom I need to poop!!
Mike: Noisily still being ‘quiet’ You guys go upstairs, Mom needs to do some work down here!!
The kids disregard above statement, and are now at my desk, Ben wants markers to make a book, Belle wants ME to get her a cheese string, and play dolls with her. Grady is starting to scream as he kicks in his motionless swing.
Mike is doing his work perfectly uninterrupted.
After they finally went upstairs, I did manage to keep my rage in control, but also lost every ounce of creative energy that was pulsing through my veins. I sat looking at the computer screen and repressed the anger while I false started a few different entries. Now a blank word document sits before me, the cursor taunting me.
So, I did what I feel most literary greats would have also done in my case. I opened a beer, and absent mindedly clicked around the internet until I felt like I had enough alone time for one evening.
I’ll come back to it tomorrow..
|My three little hot messes of children.|