Thursday, March 18, 2010

Dave Mows Grass on Writer's Block

I get it. Actually, I don't get it. I get writer's window. Writer's block, for me at least, is the normal state; it is my baseline ability to create, or more precisely, to not create. If I have ever written, it is because some stimulus introduced itself to my life opening the window for me to do so. Unfortunately, such stimulation typically has a very short half-life. It's rare that I can write well for more than a few days at at time. That's why I so enjoyed that two-week stretch about a month ago: I was viewing the world through an astigmatism of hope that made everything seem worthwhile. I wrote and wrote! But like always, the stimulus that opened my window slowly closed it as it left, leaving behind a lifeless sky casting such grey pallor on the world, a pallor that penetrates roofs and walls leaving no shadows, leaving no possibility of hue or contrast, that nothing right now seems particularly worth writing about. God I miss Miriam!


Anonymous said...

Wow. You're like one of those patients in Oliver Sacks' Awakenings. But don't worry. You'll wake up again. And the helpful doctor, played by Robin Williams, will be there to scare you back into a coma.

UF Mike

Dave Mows Grass said...

I forgot, did Williams ever tag that nurse after they went for coffee? Never mind, I'm just going to drift into a 47-month coma until the Olympics start again. Hopefully 42-year-old Mirjam will make the team and give me a reason to wake. Hey, Mike!