Today I’m trapped with a blistering headache that won’t go away and isn’t letting me work (darn weather systems and bad ex-dentists – my ongoing battle with a bad root canal and crown from my old dentist is a snarky post for a different day). So I’m hoping that if I post the partial inspiration that I had yesterday, it may chase some of today’s cobwebs and craziness away and let me get going on what I should be doing.
I used to have a lot of fun writing. Whether that writing turned into short stories or ideas for longer stories or even the odd poem here and there, inspiration used to be bubbling away. Then in college a lot of that energy was used up trying to finish term papers for classes and generally keeping up with studying and life. Creativity took a big hit and got transferred to other things like knitting and armor making (that’s also a story for later). Now that grad school is done and I seem to be finding that elusive fantasy of free time again, I’m exploring all the fun reading I had set aside and also finally recognizing the glimmers of ideas for writing again.
Yesterday morning on my way to work it was snowing, the wind was blowing like crazy, and it seemed like the coldest day yet of winter. I had a line stuck in my head when I sat down at my desk, and I was idly playing around with all the w words that came to mind. From a few lines sprung this quick and still rather awkward poem:
The winter wind is wildly whistling,
it wails and whines while we whimper for warmth.
Woeful we wait when winter is whirling;
whiskey’s not warming and walks only weakening -
willing us weary, the white warden is watching.
Yet suddenly silent, the sun sweeps skyward.
Spring sallies forth! Sweet smells spring anew.
Sweeping and singing, the sunshine she strengthens,
soft shadows swaying - summery solaces swell.
Too soon tides are turning, temperatures tumble;
trees are transforming and tricksters tramp through.
Thanks truly told temper the twilight,
where a winter welcome waits to awaken again.
Can you tell that winter holds court here for a while? I love living in a region that really shows the four seasons, and for the most part I appreciate winters and the crisp cleanness they bring. But some days the wind and the cold get to me and all I want are sunshine and even just the illusion of warmth.
Yet one of the great things about winter is curling up at night under a blanket with a cat or two for company and then either reading or knitting until it’s time for bed. This year one of my goals is to keep track of what I’m reading and how many books I’m making it through – leading up to the goal of finally reading a lot of the books I already own and that so far have only served to take up room on my bookshelves. If I finish the two books I’m in the middle of right now, at the end of January I’ll be at 18 books – far more than I ever thought I’d get through in the first month. Granted, more than half of those are from a series I reread and the list is comprised of a lot of fun fiction, but I was stunned when I added up the page count and it came to just over 5000. I’m looking forward to an interesting year of books!
As a fellow writer...I appreciate what you wrote, very much. I too struggle with having lost a bit of the love I once had for something that seemed to be my life. I've been working on finding new ways to renew the desire to write again. I know it is still there, every time I consider what I would do if God did not grant me my first desire (having children), I come back with the same answer, I'd write. So, if it is to be, then where has the inspiration gone? Have I lost it in the every day life I lead? If so, I need to find ways of generating new material...maybe instead of writing stories that I can find myself in, I need to write stories that others can find themselves in...something to ponder, at the very least.
ReplyDeleteEnjoy the rest of winter. It will be gone before we know it, and then, before we realize it again, we are wishing for its return.
Thanks, Mrs. D! :) I think we all go through phases, as our situations and perspectives change, and certain things necessarily take precedence. Sometimes I wonder if it's not really that the inspiration is lost, but we've got to relearn the language it's using as well as what we do to express it. For me part of it is realizing that some of those tickles of thought are still there, and while I may not develop them quite like I used to when I was writing a lot of short stories, things like this blog are now open avenues (well, at least for the things that I'm okay with everyone reading, lol).
ReplyDeleteSo we should both take advantage of our long winters and write away! ;)