I haven’t been writing much lately. Whether that is a matter of dried wells of creativity or life getting in the way, I have been denying the reality when it comes to my lack of imagination.
I wish, with every fiber of my being, that I could plunge back into that benevolent ocean of words and ideas and feel buoyant in those familiar waters. I wish I could ride on the waves of imagery and fantasy and surf on the crest of that elusive swell of inspiration. But lately the words evade me. I am a helpless surfer sitting in the middle of a tranquil body of water with no tides to move my motionless board.
I need a storm in my brain to strike and gain some momentum. I need the winds to tickle the chimes in my stagnant imagination and create a funnel cloud that gathers stories in its fury-filled path. I need that still ocean to become animated and my lifeless board to carve its way through a sea of new tales.
Or maybe, I just need to write.
