Waiting for Inspiration
It begins with the waiting.
That time before you even start
When there is nothing in our head but a murderous silence that you are desperate to fill and the blank space that burns at your eyes.
Then, all of a sudden, that awful quiet is replaced with a roar of voices and music and so much sound that your head is filled with it. And the cruel blank space bursts with shapes and colors and movements that dazzle your eyes.
And almost of their won accord your hands move to carve out the voices and the music and the shapes and the colors.
They engrave the beautiful chaos of your mind.
Then, as quickly as it came, the noise subsides until it is nothing but a distant buzz and the pictures grow dull until they are nothing but grey blotches.
Then it begins again.
Again you are alone.