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I do not know how many times I have talked about creativity in my life on this blog, but it’s been a lot and I can’t imagine that I am going to stop any time soon because it continues to be a thing that plagues me. It’s like this friend that you know you should maybe cut out of your life but also want to impress it immensely and so you clutch on to it in a bid to impress it. And so you find yourself in this weird cycle that seems almost to break out of.
This is relevant to something I swear.
I went through this phase in August when I was just super creative and words just flowed out of me and I ended up with a document that housed nearly 15,000 words of workable material. It was great. Then that all just dried up and I stopped being able to actually produce a sentence.
Okay, obviously I am being dramatic, but I did stop looking at the document for a while and then I stopped having ideas related to it and it all just kind of dimmed out and I accepted that the fickle friend I call my creativity had just sort of left me.
Then, because I’m an idiot, I had a book delivered to the wrong Waterstones and so had to schlep my ass to Piccadilly Circus to collect. And because I was making the trip up there anyway I decided that I might as well just sit in their downstairs cafe and see what happens (and try not to buy anymore books, which I failed at because I am weak and some books are just too pretty to say no to…). And well, I finally finished something that I was arguably supposed to have written a week ago and just couldn’t get down onto the page.
And that was all well and good and then just as I started to eat a blueberry muffin (which was the first one I had had in ages and I forgot how much I loved them) I finally had a new thought and opened up an old word document and then just found myself writing. A sustained idea. That actually made sense and slotted into the general arc that I have vaguely planned for this thing.
I typed out everything that I had in my head and then discovered that it sort of trickled out in a place that I can go back to when I go back to it. Which wasn’t yesterday like I had planned when I came home, but is something that feels to be on the horizon.
This also isn’t the first time that this has happened to me once I walk into the hallowed halls of that building (it’s next door to a church, this almost works). And it makes perfect sense that creativity just starts flowing when you’re surrounded by other peoples’ work that has made it’s way into the world. It’s kind of hard not to be inspired there. And basically it came at time when I really needed it because I was reaching a point when I was almost frustrated at my lack of productivity.
It just seems a little inconvenient that whenever I find myself in a massive rut that I just have to make an hour (or so) trip to a giant bookshop (where temptation is rife) and just eat cake and drink coffee. Although I do love spending time in there.
By the way, I am totally aware that this is most definitely psychological and that it would definitely work if I just got out of the house and go somewhere else, but I am a cliche and a sucker for working in cafes and the like because a part of my brain switches on and I get shit done. I’m gonna have to travel for that anyway, might as well travel to one of my favourite places in the world.
And now I have something to work with again and somewhere to go and a renewed passion for this project. Although I am still also putting off the inevitable when it comes to planning out the nitty gritty of it all still…I’ll save that for another day.
For now though, I’m gonna go to cardio barre and work on this scene a bit more once that is done.
And thank the Waterstones gods for their cafe and the injection of creativity.
I swear I might stop talking about creativity one day. I doubt it though…
Parentheses count: 4. See you tomorrow!
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