The sparks are returning. You know the feeling–when almost anything can trigger a story idea or send you hurtling down a new thought path. Music works for me. A stray lyric, a mood. And photographs. And documentaries. And other people’s conversations at the coffeehouse. And news articles, stray comments from strangers, radio essays, movies, comics, kung fu,…
For the last few months, I’ve been deaf and blind to new ideas. I could watch a documentary and get nothing from it but some scientific information. No sparks. No frantic fumbling for my moleskine and a pen. No excitement as ideas bubble up and spill out of my brain, my mouth, my hand.
It’s coming back. I was scared that it never would, but it is. Is this what other folks call a muse?
