This is not your last rodeo, I insist upon it. You will try again, you will inspire through lens and keystrokes, you will…you will…you will.
Keep at it, the voice in my head tells me, push through whispers in the shadows encourage, come back to earth doubt says, flagging down my fantastical brain. But, I will not, I shall be inspired to grab the bull by the horns on all platforms of creativity, even the blank canvas that awaits color on the easel.
One word to start me off, one moment to push me deeper into inspiration, one, then another, and yet another. I find myself knuckle deep in the story line, eyeing every comma, period, and extra space; every synonym to make it all come together. Like a feather, no quill is out of place, it just appears as is, as so your stories will become. They will unfold one letter at a time.
“Am I finished?” I ask.
“No,” perfection shouts from the back of the room. “One more brush stroke, change the color, edit the white balance, take out that sentence.”
“Is that all?” I become huffed waiting for the dust to settle.
“No! We cannot stop, we must, we must, we must continue; write more, photograph earlier, or later, or even now, paint your muse and all that consumes you.”
“Yes,” my brain who is running on jet fuel, exclaims. “Let those words come. You see them, I see them; through moments like this, through the experiences, in the blue and reds of that chair, in architecture, in nature, in character of monochrome faces. Don’t you see it yet? Can’t you identify your gift? People tell you all the time it’s there, right there; but you swipe it off like sweat on your shoulder. Claim it! It’s yours and you will do well.”