Do you ever have those moments when everything feels like its moving super fast inside of you, and you can’t tell whether its physically like the blood is flowing at warp speed, and sugar is racing through your body, or your soul feels like its on fire? I feel like that right now. I think it’s the caffeine, but I also think it is the way I respond to the caffeine mentally that turns on my creative flow.
I am an artist, and a writer, so for me, when I’m hyped up on caffeine, I want to be productive in every way imaginable. I want to finish that pastel piece I started weeks ago that’s been sitting in the corner of my room since I decided it messed with my organization sensibilities for it to be in the middle of the floor any longer. I want to finish that sketch I started of Jamie and Claire from Outlander, that sketch that I had to find just the right picture for, a picture that inspired me to recreate it, one where I could really feel the love and intensity between them, yet also didn’t have them making weird faces at each other. I want to add more to my fan fiction stories, the stories I really don’t want people to know I write because they’ll think I’m either really weird or really geeky, which if I’m being honest, I’m totally both of those things. I want to watch disney movies and yet I’m too wired to just sit and do nothing. I want to do homework, do my two errands I’ve been putting off all week, etc.
And yet, the problem is, I’m so wired that I’m afraid if I do any of these things, my heart will race and my blood will pump even faster than it already is and give me a heart attack. I know deep down that’s ridiculous, but I usually do everything except read at a slow rate, I fully exemplify my southern heritage in that regard. I do everything at a Scarlett O’Hara pace, just usually with half the motivation.
I’m inspired, and yet physically all I can do is sit here and think about all the things I love to do. I feel vain, and yet I feel special. How can I feel both of these things at once. My ADD is driving me up a wall. I’m making less and less sense. I just want to create something that shows how I feel, that’s a piece of myself on the outside for people to look at or read and appreciate for what it is. I need to breathe. Maybe if I just sit here and breathe for a while I’ll feel better. Breathe.
Inspiration is like magic, it always comes with a price. I feel dark saying that. Maybe that’s way too negative an approach. What I mean is, you have to push yourself to follow the muse, the inspiration, the creative flow, or you’ll miss your opportunity and you’ll find yourself once again staring at another half-completed work. You swore to yourself you would make some brilliant piece that would impress people and yet you can’t even finish it to present it to the world. So it goes back to the corner of the room, where you draw a petal at a time on your pastel flower. This is what the price is. This is what they mean when the greats talk about being a slave to their muses. I need to figure out how to get my muse to listen to me.
Of course this is all figurative. I’m a good PCUSA member and don’t believe in mystical spirits which follow me around and help me make beautiful works of art, but I do believe that the holy spirit inspires me to be creative, and it’s not always at a convenient time for me. I need to learn how to channel the deep emotions that I feel into a more productive form. A lot of the time, well most of the time actually, I just end up sitting on my bed and crying or thinking to myself about the beautiful or tragic movie ending I just watched. Or I feel the goosebumps when I hear a good song and then I move on to the next one. Sometimes I don’t even acknowledge that I feel it. But I always do. I always feel it.