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Friday, August 14, 2009

Enemies to creativity, part 1

For the creative, there is nothing so important, nor so frustrating, as the need to create. Personally, I don't write just because I want to--although that's certainly a major component--but also because I need to. To avoid writing when an idea for a story struck me would be almost impossible for me.
However, there are times when this urgent need is more of a handicap than a gift. For example, this need exists at all times--even when I don't have the means to act upon it. I still feel creative, even if I have no new ideas for stories at the moment. This is one of the most irritating parts of author-ism for me; there are evenings when I sit at my laptop, stare fixedly at a blank screen for awhile, try to come up with some suitable material to do away with my writer's block, and eventually decide that it's a wash and I might as well play solitaire for the rest of the night. The need to create persists, but it's thwarted by lack of inspiration.
Be that as it may, writer's block--or any other kind of creativity block, for that matter--isn't my subject for the day. My subject for the day concerns another foe to creativity, one which has thwarted me for the last week and a half.
Remember that Shakespeare in the Park event which I attended two weekends ago? (Yes, I still intend to review it--that'll be my next post--suffice it to say, it was brilliant.) Well, my determination to see BOTH performances ended up working against me. This being an outdoor event, the play-goers were exposed to the elements. The first performance was blessed with beautiful weather; the second performance was less lucky. Admittedly, it didn't pour down in buckets, but there was certainly enough rain to make it uncomfortable. By the end of the show, most of us were huddled under rain ponchos and umbrellas, cold and wet.
I suppose I can't blame the rain entirely for my subsequent illness, but I do think that it was partially responsible. I was mildly feverish for three days after that, and I'm still coughing, two weeks later.
My point in all this isn't to whine about how unfair it all is; it is merely to explain why I've been absent since then. I haven't been sick as a dog by any stretch of the imagination, but nevertheless, I've neglected my blog-writing responsibilities since then, and I felt you deserved an explanation.
Anyway. We will return to our regularly-scheduled creativity blogging tomorrow, as promised. Thank you for your patience, and I swear I'll stay on the ball better. :)