Some might say that there is a certain art form that goes into writting a prestine academic paper .... unfortunately I'm not one of those people, though I would have to say that my papers are pretty darn good, especially given their subject matter (accounting, management...blah, not much creative writing in there!).
I tried many time to close my dreary eyes and go to sleep, only to find that I was as restless as a child on the night of christmas eve. Except it wasn't the fresh Christmas snow or holiday presents that kept me up. I had a surge of creativity.
My mind flooded with all the things I want to paint, all the wonder I wanted to draw with charcoal. And with each creative birth, reality would set in and I would remember that I am out of paints and pencils. That and I don't have an easle...painting is so much easier with a dandy tool such as the easle (versus doing it on the floor...which is how I paint).
I then carried my mind away to when I would resupply myself with these items, where I would store them in my home, and I imagined myself working in the workstation I created in my mind's eye. Rather than quieting myself and falling asleep with a smile on my face for the "things-yet-to-come" I became frustrated that I've let myself run out of these items.
So I got up and considered reading since TV isn't very stimulating and what I aparently needed was some creative stimulation. I scanned my bookshelves....I need to buy another good book... I've read all mine and the last book I read was so outstanding that rereading anything else is a waste of my time...rereading that outstanding book wouldn't do my any good either since that book captivated me so intensely I was literally obsessed with the characters within it. They were so mutely disturbing and ghostly haunting (but not in a "boo" ghost fashion, more like haunting past memories and creepy childhoods where rights and wrongs blurred and then blurred some more when the children are feral). Anyhow, that's not what this blog is about, is it? And just as I don't have the obsessive energy in me at the moment to reread this gripping tale, I don't have the passion to tease my memories of these characters.
No, this blog is not about the wonderful book I read with such devotion a month ago which has left me feeling so starved that I have now been awake for the last 23 hours due the the hunger pains I have been left since turning its last page Nope, not this at all...
Instead, this blog is about how my creative insomnia is becoming so frustrated and stunted that I got up at one a.m. to pay my bills then finished the wee morning hours completing an assignment for my class next week. Not sure why I did that, now I'll really have nothing to do for a while and become so emaciated spiritually that I'll resort to cooking.
Cooking has always been my last resort in times like this (this isn't the first time this has happened, and if I had gone out to purchase my desired supplies the first time I wouldn't have to repeat the process as often as I do). I begin to use the colors, textures, tastes, smells, and size of foods as my projects. I'll have to admit, I come up with some yummy-lishous entrees that way, discovering new family favorites and diversifying our menu. I log my creation in a book.... a cook book I suppose it would be called, a collection of me inadvertingly halting my artistic desires to thrive, resulting in a fully fed family.
Speaking of food, I'm starved now. ....
