Inspiration! Where do you find it?

Inspiration! Where do you find it? 

Are you a person who sits quietly, deep in thought until the next great idea comes your way? Do you put yourself smack in the middle of chaos, drawing energy from the crush of noise as life occurs around you? Do you read what other’s have to write? Listen to what others have to say? Any of this? None of this?

Depending on the project, I require different recipes for success.

I’m guessing your answer is much the same but would love to know. Check out that comment field at the bottom of this post and tell me what works for you.

When I’m creating an Event Design the tried and true recipe goes like this:

  1. Brainstorm with creative people
  2. Mix in a little internet surfing
  3. Top it all off with a long drive

Yes, some of my best event solutions are developed while driving. I never text them or write them down, so unless there’s a rule about thinking and driving, I’m not breaking any laws. I do sometimes end up in an entirely unexpected place – referring to both the car and the design – but I’ve never regretted a detour I’ve taken.

Since I’m new to NaNoWriMo, my recipe is still in development:

  1. Pack up the laptop and notebook
  2. Exit the apartment, leaving behind all projects, chores, cooking, and distractions
  3. Walk (or drive) somewhere inspiring
  4. Ignore everything around me
  5. Write as much as possible

Basically, I have to get away from all the things I could be doing in order to do the thing I want to be doing. It’s just too easy to pause for a moment, deep in thought, and see a note which reminds me of the appointment I need to make. Then having made the appointment I toss the note away … thus uncovering the next note in the pile. You can see where this is going!

Heck, I’ve even been distracted on the way to the bathroom simply by walking past the kitchen and having a strong desire to get a jump-start on dinner by chopping some veggies. Anything to get a break from writing – right?

My new favorite place is within walking distance, has choices for nourishment ranging from soup (chicken noodle) to nuts (coffee beans really, but I’m a fantasy writer so go with me) and best of all, an indoor waterfall.

A WATERFALL!

How’s that for inspiration? 

Best of all, the white noise of the water constantly falling drowns away the public who share my space. Their language becoming voices I barely understand, even if I listen. It reminds me of when I was traveling overseas.

Read more about ‘Adventure of A Broad Abroad’ in Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

Speaking of White Noise…  I’m just realizing I never shared that piece of slam poetry with you. It’s a longer piece and as with all slam poetry, better shared in person. Must find slam poetry scene in Cleveland!

How about just a sampling for now?

White Noise

Evolution backwards: September 3rd, 2001

I took flight from all that I called home, called me

And I flew out of this state, my state

Out of this country, my country

And I flew into another world

A foreign land, a foreign tongue, a foreign ear

Ahhhhh, the peace of white noise

I thought I’d be wide open, I thought I’d write

But the white noise made me quiet

And I slumbered inside my newly spun cocoon

Evolution forward: September 11th, 2001

I carry a phone for the first time since arriving

Cobblestones beneath my feet as she says

“We’re under attack”

I sit and absorb the news

And I begin to fill my days with CNN and BBC

The only choices in my tongue, my ear, my noise

You, you gather and raise your flags

I, I sit quietly

Change my currency before it drops

43 Belgium Frans to the US Dollar, 42, 41

Falling… Quietly Falling

Evolution forward: November 1st, 2001

I hear words, a cacophony of noise

Words with color, Words with meaning

I can’t drown it out, this noise

I know now that I’m back, and still I’m in another state

One more flight to get home

I feel the seams begin to rip, tear, shred

I burst forth with words that move a million miles a minute

No longer slowed to be understood

No longer contained in my cocoon

And I fly

Not inside a metal bird, I fly, soar, can’t slow down

I’m told it’s exhausting to speak with me

SO  *  WHY  *  CAN’T  *  I  *  SLEEP  *

And instead I write

I stay up night and after night and I write and I write

Then I go in search of a mirror for my new voice

I will see what my cocoon of white noise has yielded

And I will introduce myself again, as if it is the first time

Hi, it’s nice to meet me

(But there’s something you need to know)

I’m gay

Is it nice to meet me?

Nice to see me?

Nice to know me?

Because it’s nice to be me

Even if it is just White Noise to you

I think I just figured out the winning recipe for writing inspiration:

  1. Immerse myself in White Noise 
  2. Write

Even this post was proving difficult to write this morning because I’m at my office desk, waiting for a delivery. Then a strange thing happened. As I edited my own poetry for you I recalled the sensation of White Noise and reached for my ear buds which I proceeded to fill with acoustic music. Voila – the post is done more quickly than begun. The delivery, by the way, just got cancelled. 

I think I’ll go see which of my characters are hanging around the waterfall. 

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