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I've been going through the writing I did at the end of last year as writing exercises. The exercise was to wake up early and write for
half an hour. I thought I'd post an extract of one of my better entries. It’s a
little bit loopy - the early mornings didn't agree with me - but there are a
few ideas I thought were interesting.
2/12/2013
Creativity is a strange idea. Who can tell what
fathomless ideas will spring fully formed from our minds like we are giving
birth to the collective’s child, or what idea we will drag kicking and
screaming into the world and bully into a semblance of creativity. There are so
many expressions and various turns of phrase that will allow us to reach across
the gap between people and shove our ideas down their throats, but who knows
which are the right ones? What do we do when we can’t express ourselves and the
block is marrow-deep, with no end in sight?
I had a dream last night that I found fascinating. The
elusive tendrils of my dream are fragmenting like mist in the sunlight, but I
remember thinking - while I was experiencing the dream - that it would be
fascinating to write about, as it was a shocking and tragic event. I also
remember thinking that it was a good opportunity to remember that writing
requires depth and … What’s the word. Despair? No – more like adversity. We
need to deal with ideas bigger than ourselves and overcome the tragedy to come
out triumphant. Every good story that I’ve gotten drawn into has been vivid and
tragic. Bad things happen to the characters, and they grow stronger from the
events, overcoming the adversities.
I feel that my mind is trying to help me now, with the
vivid and chaotic morass of dreams in my head, but I have trouble recalling
these dreams when I wake up. I aim to remember these in greater detail as I
continue my project, so we will see what changes, and how I go from here. The
dream this morning was enough to wake me into a panic attack, but the dream
itself was not that scary. It was tragic, like a car crash might be, but I have
already forgotten the details, after swearing to myself that I would remember.
It was one of those dreams where you think you’re awake, and that it’s real,
until you finally wake up and breathe a sigh of relief that it’s all over and
that you’re still here and safe.