Ever been lost for words?
I don’t mean in speech
though that may very well happen
No
I mean in the mind
Usually called writers block – it is when inspiration has flown
and the mental tongue falls silent
Ceases to speak
And the world becomes bleak
Eyes stare through walls
such is the intensity of their gaze
searching
Searching
the horizon for words
Well mine doesn’t happen quite like that
In fact that
scenario is rare for me
If I have time to stare at a wall
then it won’t be very long before my words come
Calling
Falling
out of the sky
Homing pigeons returning to the roost
alighting
in a flurry of feathers
the flock growing larger and thicker
until I can’t see the outside world
for the view is obscured
by words
and I retreat
to write until the blur
recedes
Leaving me empty
But happy
hmmmm
However
There is another scenario for writers block
And IT
is the one from which I suffer
It’s when the practical
The real
The must do nows appear
When the thing that actually earns money comes knocking
and I have to answer the door
Take notes
Add up sums
Pay bills
Write
but not my favourite type
Wordy things yes
But the words have no wings
They are all sharp and defined with punctilious punctuation
They are contained
restrained
and polite
Sometimes I enjoy them – particularly when I get to put someone so exactly in their place with such extraordinary grace that I become just a little bit smug about it
But that of course, is art
and administration is rarely about art
No
it
is
mostly
Dear Sir/Madam, order this and pay for that
and bloody workplace health and safety gaff and legal jargon which after all is the greatest crime of hyperbole that was ever taken far too seriously – in fact…
But I won’t start
because just the thought!
Tightens my jaw
and
Freezes my fingers on the keyboard
in frustration
Because I love my words and I hate to see them so misused
Beloved wild words
those extraordinary birds
Captured and forced to trot about
like some sort of trained animal
Art
bound
and turned into commonplace tools
It’s cruel
to take a beautiful word and then fasten it, nail it down flat, boringly slotted beside another and another so it just says this or that in an extraordinarily ordinary way and sentence after sentence full stop as if you meant it and then return, return start a new paragraph and look at this, just bloody boring, right then time to close – cap it off with a kind regards
or a
yours faithfully …
Aggggggh!
Monologue in E Flat flat flat flat flat
No soundtrack
No rhythm
other than thwack thwack thwack
Anyway back
to what I was talking about earlier on
This then is
another form of writers block
Because when I am forced to write like this
the feathery things leave
Rhyming chant is wild you see
and
Wild words circle high
They don’t land
when I’m being
Company Secretary
and answering the phone
in that business like tone
Nope
They take flight
wheeling higher and higher
calling to each other
like hawks
their music becoming fainter and fainter
Until I can’t hear it
anymore
They won’t be back till sunset now
when I sit with a cup of tea
on the warm front steps
Lost in the colours of the sunset
Breathe
and then
with eyes closed
summon them home
And it’s off to work I go hi ho. Actually I had already started at 5.30 this morning but then a little while ago with a cup of tea I saw a wild word bird land not too far from me and very carefully – so not to disturb it – I let it write its story into this post.
Have a lovely day wherever you are and if you are a writer or some other sort of creative artist then may you find at least a little space for your wild things to come calling.
It’s always a relief to fall back into a relaxing time with creative activities after a day of duties and adulting.
Opening and close are my favourite time of day – the rest can be a bit of blur however I am trying to be more mindful throughout.