I did start writing something else for today, but when I went back to write some more I realised I didn’t want to anymore. I feel like that’s happened rarely for me, when writing on Drafting anyway. I have small shoots and starts of a million different things I once started writing in little pockets. Across iPhone notes, Google Docs, notebooks. Scrawled on the back of envelopes, or the nearest thing I could grab when inspiration struck and threatened to leave just as fast as it arrived. I’ve even tried dictating thoughts into words before but it’s not fluid enough for me as I can’t resist making the tweaks and edits as words appear simultaneously while I speak. Too distracting. I suppose in these cases it’s not that I’ve changed my mind, but that the inspiration stopped. Like volcanoes, some are extinct, others active and some dormant, with a potential to erupt again.
One idea over the past few days has done exactly that. Seeped back into my consciousness begging to be written. 500 words coherently splurged out of me when I went to bed on Tuesday night. It’s an idea that first formed words nearly a year ago now, seeping its way back into my mind slowly until I could do nothing else but take notice. As it begins to now take shape and hopefully become a whole piece of something I will continue to be elusive. Drafting may be an open book but I’m allowed to have secrets.
I think my best writing and my best ideas tend to gain the most momentum in the evening time. I was born at 8:13pm and I like to think there’s a sort of magic that comes to find me especially then. Or maybe it’s simply because I find it easiest to dedicate more attention to writing and get into a flow in the evenings. Work has finished, my tasks for the day complete. Mostly.
I’m definitely seeking out more avenues of inspiration, which is so warmly welcomed. After having such a long period of finding it hard to write at all and weeks without sharing anything a single thing on Substack it feels so good to be here. My phone is open with countless tabs of theatre shows and galleries I want to go to. I’ve added a hoard of new books onto my wishlist and my pace of reading has picked up again, most days finding the time to read for nearly an hour. My goal of getting through 52 books this year might not be too far reached after all.
Dare I even bother to say that we’re teetering on the edge of summer, considering that I woke up to check the weather and was met with a “real feel” of 3 degrees this morning. Brrr. I’ve been favouring my Kindle but this week I looked at some of the hardback books stacked up on the shelf in my room and immediately could feel the sun on my skin. The grass twirling in the fingers of my spare hand as I lay in the park struggling to hold a heavy book above my head and block out the sun from my view to read.
I came here today thinking I didn’t have that much to say. I’ve rambled on now long enough so I suppose I ought to let you get on with your day. But if you have your own rambling thoughts seemingly about nothing from the week gone by you’d like to share with me, leave a comment!