If you watched the Super Bowl, you probably saw the car commercial where the Sandman trips, and the spill of his dream dust sends the main character on the most busy, awesome dream ever as a result. The other night felt similar, like something out of nowhere had sent my mind teeming, but instead of race cars and supermodels - it was with an endless amount of ideas.
A few days prior to this, I had a tearful, mascara streaming conversation with my mom about how lost I felt. I wanted to get writing projects underway, but was totally stunted for ideas - for weeks. It wasn't pretty. But since then, and I have no idea thanks to what, I felt the block age lift.
Throughout that night of dizzy ideas, I periodically flipped on the my bedroom light just long enough to jot down a phrase or idea in the notebook on my kitchen counter until it became so frequent that I had to put the notebook on my night stand. My bedroom light when on, off, on and off again throughout the entire night, likely to the dismay of my now annoyed, curious or frightened neighbors across the air shaft. At some point between sleep and waking, I just started scribbling notes blindly in the dark, hoping the next day they wouldn't look like the scrawlings of a crazy person.
The thing is, we get ideas all the time, completely at random. Brushing our teeth, eating dinner, hell - even on the toilet. It's not something you can force. And honestly, when does creativity ever make sense?
It didn't make sense when it flooded in the other night, but was a welcome surprise nonetheless.
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