Hello, my lovelies. This post took a surprising turn for me at the end. Let me know what you think.
As writers, we spend a lot of time in our own heads. Daydreaming, star gazing, muse courting in a thousand different ways. Some have rituals that have to be precisely followed in order to start writing. But even before we as writers, as artists, as creators, begin to start actively start our project…we are daydreaming our creations into existence.
But what happens when the daydreams stop? How do you get it back? Still writing letters, still sketching things out… until you aren’t. Until it’s you and blank paper and brain.
At first, I told myself I needed a rest. I’d been writing this and that, poems and micro essays, cranking them out, filling up the spiral notebook. And then I wasn’t.
A week. Then two.
Then I got bored with the talk radio I had started listening to. I’d been listening to it because it centered me, made it easier to get through the day at the real job. With all that was going on in my personal life, I needed it. My writing was all over the place, emotions rocking through me. I had to have something to get me through the day without loosing it.
But then I didn’t.
It wasn’t until I switched back to music, music that I love, that I realized the mistake I had made.
Often, while driving to work and rocking out, I get lost in a daydream. The music tickles a spot of creativity and I’ll go off on a tangent. Sometimes singing along, pretending it’s my song. Sometimes letting the story of the song move through me, morph, become a totally different story.
Bon Jovi is my favorite, but there are more coming up strong. Hoozier. Fun. Ozzy Osbourne. P!ink. Sam Smith. If I start hitting the same daydream notes during a song, I’ll put it on repeat (all of the above are on my hated iphone) until I shake it loose.
And I’ve started shaking it loose again. Playing with the poetry in my last post, tuning it to say what I meant –even though the subject matter is heart breaking—filled my heart with joy. Joy, tenderness, grief, love and despair all rolled into three little poems and a blog post.
I don’t know where I’m going as a writer anymore. That daydream is loose. Even though I know what I want to do, I don’t know how to get there. I am off the map that I carefully drafted all those years ago while daydreaming my life as a writer. Since I didn’t get a bestseller and a mansion at the age of eighteen (without having written a novel), I was already off course.
My name is Wynelda Ann Deaver.
I am a poet who didn’t know it.
I like micro, macro, flash writing.
I am still finding out who I am as a writer, and trying to become.
I may be lost, but I can enjoy the journey all the same.
But I am always, always a believer in daydreams. You never know what stories they’ll whisper to you.
Have you taken a turn off your carefully planned route? Enjoying the new ride, or scared? Let me know how you’re doing!
©2015 Wynelda Ann Deaver, All Rights Reserved.