More than once I’ve heard this or that person assert that there is no such thing as Writer’s Block; the claim is that it’s either a laziness or a lack of true talent as opposed to an actual affliction.
Today I can prove those people wrong. Because I want to write and need to write and I don’t think I’m horrible at it. I just cannot cannot cannot pull the thoughts from my brain in the correct way. My usual method for non fiction is to think of my thesis statement and write around it. Yet every thought floats past the back of my eyes like a running fog, just enough to glimpse but not enough to cloud or fill my vision. I can’t grab anything and put it to paper.
I could blame the usual culprits, those sprightly demons of pain and fatigue that have chipped away at my life, but we’ve lived with one another long enough that I know now where the free spaces are and can work around them. So this isn’t that. I’m wondering if it is too much Facebook and Twitter, where ideas are either short bursts of thoughts belched out or semiotically expressed via “funny” pictures. Is my brain, fed on a diet of those brain raisins, no longer able to digest and process a meal? I wonder.
But then again, I’ve been on a bingey read cycle, moving through books the way the prow of an ocean liner slices through waves. Maybe I’ve burnt out the batteries or the hamster or whatever it is that powers my cerebellum. I don’t know.
Over at Mike Duran’s blog there is a huge discussion about Christians and the Supernatural. Are ghosts real or are they demons? Is there a such thing as psychic phenomena? That’s kind of like asking if there’s such thing as music, I think, and then if Music is good or bad. Of course I’m a mystic and talk with God and listen to God and know that there is more under and around us floating behind the backs of our eyes like the words I can’t grab today. It’s all this wonder and excitement when I think of the neat things I’ll get to see once I move on. I’m hoping that an early slice of my afterlife involves a behind the scenes tour of this world where I see the Utilidors God uses to make all the themed lands work seamlessly.
In one part of my world one of my friends is troubled by the fact that so many Christians don’t Ask Questions and are of unscientific minds. I try to explain but can’t fully express how there is a lot of pondering to be done about the magic of things and science, which I love, only uncovers part of it. It’s like a woman in short sleeves and a thigh-length skirt. Beautiful and sensible but all the greatest parts are still under wraps.
My dog is rolling around in the grass as though plants and dirt and sunshine are the best things ever to happen and maybe he’s right. I still think that dogs can see outside our spectrum of vision. If so and if they are content to love grass and sunshine I suppose that’s well enough to be going on with.