If my life had an occasional soundtrack, this morning I’d be thinking about some frenetic Uriah Heep…jangling out a song that went, “THIS IS A THING I’VE NEVER KNOWN BEFORE….IT’S CALLED “EEEEEEEAAAAASSSSSSY WRITIN’ “.
I haven’t been doing this blog long enough to really have a handle on how everything works.
One thing I’ve learned is not to get too excited about a sudden bump in site statistics. If it’s spiked at all it’s usually because I’m the one who looked at any of it…I get credit for all the clicking I do, too.
Another thing I’ve figured out is that there seems to be a couple of different styles of blog that I do if I’m trying to be heavy.
The first is the blog that is written to try and sound good. Maybe I’m just in practice subconsciously for a future political career…”give the people what they want” and all that stuff. I’ll try and hit a couple of the “politically correct” notes, say something obscure that I hope will come off as profound…generally just b.s. to fill up the page with something that might come off as worthwhile even if it doesn’t deserve to.
The second is a beauty. It’s when a blog is written….and is good. Heartfelt and sincere…the words pour out like breathing. They say that the word inspiration means having a connection to the Divine….
” I only write when I’m inspired…and I make sure I’m inspired every morning at 9 a.m.” Peter Devries
It’s all about just doing the work…if the cap’s not off the bottle it can’t get filled.
When I’m writing the second style of blog, it seems to just pour out. If it has any meat to it or not isn’t the issue…it’s just the joy of getting caught up in the process that moves it all along. The eruption of happiness that results is a fine way to start off a morning.
Now…it could be that it is just two cups of coffee in rapid order that gets me feeling excited…but I’d like to believe that inspiration was the culprit and not just the caffeine.
One of the things that I loved about the visual arts when I was still a member of the “Order”…back when I was still doing some artwork…was that it seemed like every time I worked through a piece, it felt as if I could lose myself in it. I’d work and work…and then look up, hands covered in paint and graphite, and realize that hours had passed and I had something to show for it that I could be satisfied with.
I guess it’s that joy that lets me see when something doesn’t give me the same feeling …so maybe it’s not always a good thing if it leads to comparison.
Inspiration is a gift…it’s not something that comes around everyday. Maybe it is something to be courted, though…wined and dined and shown the town, with the hopeful expectation of getting that one “good night kiss” that leads to good work…that leads to the joy of a job well done.
Not every one of us recognizes that feeling…I say recognizes because I don’t believe that inspiration is some elitist monopoly. We are all creative. Each one of us has the chance to find something to express the gift of inspiration through…whether it’s the Sistine Chapel or baking a pie is up to us.
Like some people refuse the existence of God because it’s not something they can work their head around…some people can’t see the gifts around them. Because people can’t see or refuse to recognize that gift doesn’t mean that it isn’t there…it’s just waiting on the bus…thinking, “I wonder why he doesn’t call anymore?”
Court the gift of inspiration…and be ready when you open the door to take its hand and run with it.