Sometimes I just need to get out and see myself in another context. Sometimes I just need to focus on something other than the thing I need to make. Bukowski’s gravestone says “Don’t Try”.
Creation has to be fresh. I think I have to discover something about myself. Once I have all the answers I desire, then I won’t be able to create anything. At the same time, searching and finding nothing is locking me up just as successfully as finding I have finally discovered the secret to happiness.
I sat down today in my home and tried to rework something old. I tried, and failed. I only found a desire to be perfect and found myself reworking something dry and dead. Then I went out. I am reading Walden these days. And new ideas started flowing, character, plot structures. Because I took my brain out of its cage.
Then again, all new is just as detrimental as reworking old stuff. A backlog of unfinished material is locking me up. New beginnings all the time is very frustrating. I think I need to get some of the old stuff to work before I can move on.