Sometimes it is the prospect of possibilities themselves that stop you dead in your tracks. The openness wallops you- you get thrashed back into the cush lazy boy chair; assuming the iconic image of the skeleton sitting before the speakers- his skin blown off by the sheer volume.
That is how I feel sometimes when I want to access creativity.
I hit open mics often. I go. I sit by myself. I’m in my own private little world….
I go strictly for contagion. The inspiration in the room rubs off as the gears inevitably begin to turn and I think to myself: “There are about a million things that have never been done that I could be doing right now…”
Like playing out languid daydreams, fiddling with the reel as it turns; Unfolding ideas.
If your hair stands up in a storm it could be a sign that positive charges are rising through you, connecting…
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