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Divine Discontent

“The mind is like a border collie. If you don’t put it to work, it will eat the couch.” — paraphrased from Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear

I have an unscratchable itch to make something. It’s like the feeling that I get in my body when it’s been too long since I’ve exercised — I’m restless, jumpy, longing for the exhalation of accumulated stress. But this feeling is in my mind. I want to make something. I want to obsess over word choices or vocal edits, push myself beyond my previous personal bests until I am a dizzy puddle on the floor.

I want it to be November already so I have a socially acceptable excuse to set aside hours a day for NaNoWriMo. Why didn’t I do it last year? Why do I need socially acceptable excuses to set aside hours a day for writing? No one is paying attention to how I live my life anyway. No one is judging whether or not I’ve struck the perfect balance between “productive” and “fun.”

Ocean Capewell reads from her novel The Most Beautiful Rot and I just want to eat all the books.

A photo posted by Jana Fisher (@janafishermusic) on


Last week, I went to a book reading for Ocean Capewell’s The Most Beautiful Rot. She talked about the process of self-publishing, how she’d always thought people who wrote books were people who had their shit together until she wrote a book still while not having her shit together. All I could think about was how much I wanted to write my own book. I wanted to have a finished product in my hands, to get my weird twisted plot lines out of my head to be shared with the world. Then I remembered to be grateful for jealousy; jealousy points you in the direction of what you want.

I want to create a synth-poppy bedroom record. I want to hone my writing, get my short stories and novels from vague visions to tangible tales. I want to train my body to be a tool for me instead of something I trip over. I want; I want; I want.

I am not content to stay still. And thank God.

*I stole this post title from a Sixpence None The Richer album I loved desperately in 2002.

 

Published in Inspiration

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