When creativity strikes - that dull, aching wont to put the pen to paper (or in some instances, the fingers to keyboard) immediately, if not sooner - what’s a writer to do but cave into its orgasmic demand? It’s the lover who takes you in the cramped hallway; it’s the thrill of spring’s first rain shower christening bare shoulders and bare souls. It’s that urgent, hungry need for self-expression that flashes like a fleeting ray of bright light through the darkest of clouds. If you stare directly at it, it blinds you; if you look away, it’s gone as soon as it came. If you let it shine beside you, however, it will guide you through your momentary minutes of linguistic fame and conjugational greatness.
Creativity strikes (sometimes, at 1 A.M.)
Apr 7th, 2009 by Karyn Polewaczyk
I know exactly what you mean