It wasn’t a deliberate hiatus from
this little blog. Work wasn’t that stressful as it had been for the past eight
months. I had plenty of time on hands to sit down and write on the mundane
things in life which are as vast as the sky. Perhaps, the vastness of the mundanes overwhelmed me to write, you’d think. Or I was unplugging from the internet. Neither
of it. I chose not to write.
There were some mornings when I
got out of the bed and thought to myself, ‘I will start writing
today.’ Then like this August weather, my mind would change and I would find
myself lost in the sea of activities only to come home tired after a long day.
Other times, inspiration
would strike me while in the shower or when out on a stroll. I’d immediately write
it down for consumption at a later time. Later, I’d sit down to work on the idea
on my PC, but to be lost for an hour or two in the internet black hole. Exhausted, I’d shut down and sleep.
I thought, “Hell, what’s
happening to me? Is it a creative block?”
There were too many thoughts and
ideas running on in my head. The thoughts were fogged-out landscape from which
occasional memories appear like isolated trees, in an almost broken panorama.
Like in Stephen King’s words, I
was approaching the ‘act of writing with nervousness, excitement, hopefulness,
or even despair – the sense that you can never completely put on the page what’s
in your mind and heart.’
The sense of nervousness and
excitement from too many thoughts stopped me from writing altogether.
This morning, I put off the TV,
carried my PC to the living room where the light is good and where my adored stack of
books lies to give me strong vibes. I sat down on the couch and started writing with
cups of coffee to pull me through the whole process.
Usually, I write on my desk in
the bedroom where I have the pastel wall as complete front view and the jungle
view to the right from my window. But from my living room, I have the view of a
small set of my neighbor’s kitchen garden where tall maize plants have
overgrown and I can see the quaint neighborhood. The change in the writing
space was the perfect vibes for me.
How’s your writing process like?
Do you have a favorite place to write or you write where you can?
