So we are about two weeks into the new year, the Christmas decorations have been packed away, the resolutions are starting to become a strain and the news is just starting to sink in that David Bowie has died (which really knocked me for a loop).
So far my resolution to get that first draft written has been a big fat zero. I have not written one word, not one since December, towards completing the draft. It’s almost as if I’ve become scared of it. I put the resolution down on paper. Said to myself that this year was THE year and already I’ve stalled. Have I forgotten what the characters are like? What if the momentum isn’t there anymore? what if I realise that the central plot line and themes are embarrassingly silly (I actually think that all art has an element of embarrassing silliness to it but that’s a rant for another day.) What if… I’m just not good enough?
And then, today, I thought about David Bowie. In fact the Goblin King has been on my mind all day. Facing down the spectre of terminal illness, he didn’t buckle. He created. Not only that he created some great work. Listen to Blackstar or Lazarus released in the days before his death and it’s easy to understand how in awe I am of the strength it must take to be that sort of artist. To fight back against an ailing body and keep producing beautiful things regardless.
Why? Only he will ever truly know but, ruminating on all this, it struck me that I have to push past the nagging monkey-mind voices and put fingers to keyboard again. Because if you want to be creative then one has to do just that. Create. So that’s what I’m going to do.