…not even my usual rush of opening paragraph. Just a title: Does Anyone Know When God’s Due Back?
I’m wondering if besides stress and stuff, the creative side of my mind has been confused by a bombardment of ideas while submerged in blue funk. Now that sounds like contradiction, but it’s not: ideas are not necessarily creative in themselves until they’re drawn out to their potential. A bunch of ideas floating like spit in a mouth-blown-up balloon are randomly unrelated. When the balloon pops–as it eventually will from all that hot air–you find yourself all wet. Cliches, cliches; so appropriate at times.
The desire to produce a film clip, an animation preferably, has absorbed the mental energy in learning, storing, recalling, etc. without any visible proof of value. Meanwhile, story hasn’t come through, seemingly lost in the corridors of racks of files of ideas.
But I suppose if my muse is merely lost in its bad sense of direction that’s better than having been smooched flat by a train.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
That title is fantastic — are you related to Woody Allen, by any chance? I find being bombarded with ideas to be a blessing and a curse. I frequently have attacks that feel like they could be shaped into brilliance, but often end up being mental gibberish instead. Sort of like those great conversations in the 70’s “under the influence” that in the full light of day seem to completely evaporate!