The Freedom of Creation
This horrible feeling that writing has lost its luster has started to consume me to the point where I have zero desire to write at all. Today, I decided it was time to change that by shaking things up a bit.
For the first time in months, I set aside my freelance work to begin a new piece. It took me far too long to let it all flow through my fingers, the way my thoughts once did so effortlessly. Eventually, I started typing. I did my best to turn off that voice in my head that is constantly screaming at me to "make more money" or "take on more clients." Instead, I did something I haven't allowed myself to do in a long time - I set myself free. Free from the confines of writing for money. Free from the image of a dollar sign flashing before eyes. Free from the fear of indulging in my passion.
True, pure freedom is hard to come by, but I believe it is vital in the creation of art.
Below is the opening to my latest novel... Or short story... Whatever it turns out to be:
"The days turn into weeks, weeks into months, months into years, and still I remain in this place where my life is not my own. Everything I once controlled is now spinning wildly away. I try to grasp onto something, anything, but it’s futile. Who I was is gone. That person has been replaced by someone new, someone who lives in an eternal state of discontent. This new being has overtaken my body, my mind, my very essence. She has worked her way into my psyche and altered the fiber that makes up who I am. Struggling is useless. Fighting only makes her stronger. Still, I thrash against her as if she’s an undertow pulling me out to sea, forcing me beneath the water where I drown over and over again. It’s a cycle that never ends, a painful routine that, against all sense, I find terribly comforting. What could be more compelling than a battle than can’t be won? Tell me, what is more romanticized in this world than those things that can not thrive?"