She woke, not feeling her heart.
Much was said; less was done.
“Tell me you love me.”
When what-ifs turn to done deals.
This post is partly, if not entirely, inspired by my roommate. She got me thinking, you see, during one of our bullshit trade-offs. You know, those trade-offs between friends that have nothing left of interest to talk about after years of breathing the same stale air and then have to kill that stale air with enough hot air that the staleness is pushed to the floor, subjugated by physics?
Anyway, this particular time, my roomie provided me with an image that I needed to get down on paper and share with others – now.
Without further ado, I present to you……….
…..… the Tug-o-war between Missus Writer and Sire Brain!
Mode 1 – Missus Writer vs. Sire Brain
MS: “Sooo… anything good happening over there? Hm? Hmhmhmhm?”
Mode 2 – “Sire Brain vs. Missus Writer”
SB: “Hey! You! Heeeeeyyee…. balabalabalabala—”
They say that miscommunication is part and parcel in a relationship, which leads me to believe that I’m in a relationship with my own brain. If I dare peek at it, it cowers in a corner, and if I leave it alone to fend for itself, it springs on me when I least expect it. Or, god forbid, when I have no time for it. Now, this doesn’t just happen with writing, I know. This is just how a brain works, I suppose, with a lot of things.
But, but, but, but— when my brain decides to spring on me with a plot twist that demands I change the last fifty chapters of my novel…. or when it decides to shut the door on me and my deadline… weeeellll……..
My brain never stops working with words and stories.
Rather, it alternates between modes of working with words and stories.
I do wonder how this will look on a brain scan…
I’d ask Sire Brain, but that might undermine my argument, so let’s leave it at that, shall we?
If words could read themselves aloud…
Don’t like that, stomach tells brain.
“Don’t rely on the bulb to light up on its own; power it yourself!”
I longed for a series that was less about my writings and more about what drives the creative process behind it.
Thus, lo and behold, LivelyLightbulbs came into sweet cyberspace existence!
Now, where to start – authors, music, painters, sculptors… food… ferrets?
Well, this is a writing blog, so it would be proper to focus on authors at first, but, in all honesty, I’d rather focus on what inspires me at this very moment.
And at this very moment, my inspiration comes from watercolors!
Or, more precisely, my first ever foray into watercolors (sans childhood dabbling)!
Having painted with acrylics all my life, developing an abstract and impressionistic style, I’ve felt attracted to watercolors for some time. Despite the difference in texture and feel, they have some of the same characteristics that abstract acrylics do, so I guess that my interest in them should not be a surprise.
With acrylics, I paint wet-on-wet.
As such, with watercolors, I decided on doing the same…
… after doing a bit of research on watercolor techniques.
At first, before doing research, I tried to wing it, just for fun, figuring that after a lifetime of acrylics I had to at least be able to make something of worth. Please look at the result below:
Now, please look at the result after I did a bit of research:
Needless to say, I was severely disappointed in myself with the first result, which then resulted in the second result… and then my disappointment was washed away – so yay!
Anyway, I’ve always worked best with warm and earthy tones, something that obviously also comes into play this time around – and something that will likely never change.
What does painting, be it watercolor or acrylics, do for me, then, in regards to writing?
Painting makes my brain go creatively blank in a way that writing does not.
Painting, for me, is centered on color-play and less on motifs.
Also, for me, impressionism and abstract art rely heavily on emotion.
With emotion, I can let my brain go completely blank in a way that I can’t when I write – for obvious reasons, of course, with plot structure being a main reason for that.
This “creative blankness” of my painting brain offers me a respite from intellectual thinking that thus reinvigorates my writing brain, inspiring me to return to my writing with renewed energy!
That, I feel, is grand inspiration, even if it isn’t the kind where I can step forward and say “painting this *insert-blank* inspired a sad mood within me that inspired a scene within my novel!” Now, this is the kind of inspiration that I want viewers of my art to have, but not necessarily the kind of inspiration that I myself get from crafting the piece of art. Not that there’s anything wrong with that kind of inspiration. I myself also experience that kind. Just not when I write, that is.
And… I think that’s it?
Yup – that’s it.
I’m outta words.