awakenings

in my overwhelmingly creative thought processes lately when i write in my journal or paint canvas after canvas turquoise and splashes of word-related things, i pray for a day when it will flow from me the way it is supposed to.

the way God intended it.  the quintessential story that i want to write.  i want to write a Jane Eyre, or a To Kill a Mockingbird, or perhaps a small poignant fable.  i would even write a children's book if i felt so inspired....  i know i have it in me, but....

.....WHY WON'T IT COME TO ME!?!?!

perhaps it's the pressure of having to move and create at a rapid pace so it can go through the big machine gun hands of 'getting it out there' and perhaps it just completely overwhelms and stresses me out.   i have tried many different approaches and discussed many things with people in my research i.e. living-my-life.  when i explained to an old coworker friend (whom i no longer talk to) about my plans to take my time and gain enough life knowledge to WRITE THAT BOOK THAT I HAVE IN ME, she said something that doesn't leave my mind and plagues me.  It was a big mumbo jumbo escapading conversation about living for the NOW and answering that call NOW.  Life is too short to wait for a perfect moment.

And now I suffer from intense creative anxiety.

I am working on some short stories in the meantime to at least just practice the craft.  But I am not pleased at all with them.

Awaking from a big long dream can be quite torturous.

And the face of Mr. Rochester to my Jane Eyre is so clouded over with all the other bullshit that clanks from behind his high-speed out-of-control rabid horse-drawn carriage.  Seriously, my muse or destiny or love or WHATEVER THE HELL IT IS is just like Pigpen from Peanuts.

Maybe one day he'll clean up to be Charlie Brown.

My god, life is so strange.