Schubert bust my brain to start with

My mind and fingers work at different speeds.

I’ve been pushing words on N&V for about a week or so now, and the gush has slowed to a trickle.

And despite my grand plans for getting this first draft down as quickly as possible, I have to admit that I need to go drown inside my head for a bit, and just let go. The typing fingers have caught up to the dreaming brain.

There was a time when I’d allow myself to get angry and frustrated by this, to curse myself as being unproductive . . .  but it’s not worth it, because it’s not true. So much of what I do on the page is the result of not-writing. Of giving myself permission to explore dream-space, to see what sleep and art and reading and living bring me.

If writing is a feast, then the end product – the story – is really nothing more than a coffee served after dessert. How can I possibly ignore the exquisite varieties of food before me? What kind of a person would I be to spurn the meats and puddings, the gravies and wines, and focus solely on that after-dinner coffee?

(well, besides thinner. *ahem*)

I’m reminded of an art work I had to study while in school – one which I first saw later, at the Johannesburg Art Gallery, when I studied graphic design – by Penny Siopis.  The work was called Melancholia, but sadly I can’t find an image of it online. 🙁 (I think it’s on permanent exhibition there though, so if you ever find yourself near the JAG, * go have a look)

The most important thing about a feast is that it does not happen alone (well, I suppose you could make an argument that it can, but I think a feast eaten alone would be a sad and sorry feast indeed.)

A feast is an invitation;  to sit at my table, to drink wine, to spend time in my company –  and it is an opportunity for me to spend time in yours, to laugh at your anecdotes and reminisce with you about the things we remember, to be entertained, moved, inspired.

So in that spirit, I’m asking you to share – show me a picture you love, a song that won’t get out of your head, a story you wrote, an idea that mesmerised you.

Bring something to the table. (parrots welcome.)

ETA: *Okay now I feel like an idiot, because I’m pretty sure that in the JAG link,in the first image – the painting on the left, that’s the painting I’m talking about…


related post

Published by

cat_hellisen

I write.

2 thoughts on “Schubert bust my brain to start with”

Comments are closed.