Creative muscles: engage! (please)

I'm constantly feeling the need to retune and revive the already elusive creative muscles while they're living in chaos; getting lost under busy bags for life and boxes of clothes, sore from sleeping uncomfortably on a too-new mattress and letting weeds grow over them in the back garden that's surveyed and coveted by neighbours. 

I find the creativity sparks up when I least expect it, and almost always when I'm without a means to harness it. I'll be in bed finally nearing sleep, on a busy train, shopping at the supermarket, or busy working on the weekend when I think 'this could be a good piece', 'what if that character did this...', 'the whole story could flip on its head!' ...and then it's gone. I set aside time to focus on the creative projects and then find something else to waste it on. Except, it's not a waste. It's my mind's outlet, and my heart's livelihood. Why am I ignoring it? 

A good way to warm up is to make note of the small moments, to turn the everyday observations into something bigger and more meaningful - dollop some juicy nuance on top and make it pretty, give any unlucky readers an opportunity to think and reflect. 

Photo by Zaksheuskaya.

*

I bring my eyes up from my dimly lit screen to peer out of the very generous window, remembering far too late the 20/20/20 instructions I was given half a decade ago when I first started working from home, to save my eyes and keep me sane - not long after that I installed the Screen Shader extension to my browser, so I think I've done my best. I see a couple walking along the church wall in the mid-morning sun, the two of them visibly breathing heavily from their mouths, pushing an empty pram and carrying a small bundle of colours and patterns between them. I hope they're off to find a coffee or two. 

*

I often think about my friend over in Brighton who owns a bookish cafe-slash-bar that I'd go to every day if I could. I remember past me, who'd fantasise about pottering aimlessly along the North Lanes but in the most effortlessly elegant way, with all the time in the world, wearing long skirts and snazzy tops, ordering only the most prettily poured coffees and reading un-performatively in pub gardens. It could still be me, but since those fantasy days I've learned too much about life. I'd have pinches of salt in the pockets of those skirts, and I'd want less ice in my drinks. 

*

One of my little electronic buds pops out of my ear on the street, and I say to no-one 'oh, stop it' with a chuckle as I wait for it to pause its rolling along the pavement so I can pick it up. I sigh as I put it back in, as if to say 'what am I like?' to passing strangers. 

*

I'm finding The Novel too hard to write at the moment. I'm straying from my path and falling into the wilderness of the heartbreak piece, the one I started writing the day after I was dumped, but had been meaning to explore long before that. I wonder who would read it. 

*

I have a shoebox packed full of hagstones that I need to do something with. I foresee a future where friends come to visit to find them hanging from the ceiling, sitting on every surface, looped onto every keyring and scattered about the garden. I will become The Crazy Hag(stone) Lady. 

*

I see hugs happening outside in the sunshine, love pouring visibly from one person to another in the briefest but warmest of embraces, and I wonder when my next one will be. I miss having a human to rely upon for hugs. I wouldn't call myself the cuddliest person, nor would many others who have come close and been burned, but I still hope secretly for someone to tap in and become that to me. 

*

Book in to work from Hastings Writers Workshop! You can get a month's £20 pass that entitles you to 25 slots, which is outrageously affordable (works out as less than £1 per hour - quick maths) and a beautifully peaceful little space. Early morning & lunchtime writing slots are available also. Even if you have a working space at home, it's nice to go somewhere else and also have some other creative 'accountability bodies' nearby. 

- not an ad, I just want local pals to be aware of this excellent opportunity.

Thanks for reading, as always.

G. x

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