How to write???

Coffee made, Max Richter playing in the background, stretched and ready now I must write, write a blog for today okay, okay, words, idea, come to me…

Another cup of coffee ready and hmmm, nothing, what will I write about, something about writing, seems fitting, and… nothing not yet, Another cup? no, far too much caffeine change of music Ólafur Arnalds, change of drink maybe some buffalo trace whisky, okay let me first go for a walk change of scenery will do it, maybe.

Back from walk and buffalo trace in hand music playing ready and let’s sit and stare at the vast white in front of me.

I let my fingers play on the keyboard write words down at least do something please just do something, little voices start to speak at the back of my mind {Hello, you are not a writer that’s why you are struggling. You fooled yourself this is not you, couple of one hits, none a wonder.} 

I know the liars’ tone of voice I do not give it credit, and still, I sit with this loud page of white begging to be marked, begging to become more than a page, pleading for something, remarkable.  

I give in and I write a sentence just a couple of words that sounded good in my mind, just to put some black on the page and then another line because it sounded good to me and another and soon I have a six-line “poem-ish” thing on the page those lines was a trail of bread crumbs that led me to a thought, I expand I can almost not stop myself, thoughts and words dance in perfect unison and I feel like an open tap flooding a clogged sink. 

How did it happen was it the buffalo trace? the music, what magic did conjure these words and thoughts where did it come from, nothing and everything is my great answer. I believe that whatever an idea is, where ever it comes from, it happens if you just give it time and allow it to happen, it was not the music or the coffee or whiskey it was not the walk, it was believing that it will come then again it was all those things as well because I chose it then at that moment, but it could have been silence and hunger, if I chose it then, I have no idea how ideas work but I have realized that it is a personal dance a relationship you have with your art and you learn a unique language only you to lovers have, then the biggest key is believing, {hope, faith} that it will come that it is inside of you and that you will release the words, or the song or the see the sculpture in the stone, having faith that you will overflow and cause a wave that the ocean is inside of you.

shuter

Thank you for reading have a flooding weekend.

Peace and Love. 

Ps, the lines.

Quite seems the ocean who knows her story?

Inside lies a storm none can see.

Nothing to hold.

Nothing to be. 

Suddenly waves crash and break. 

A flood of the heart.

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