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Creative Coma

I've been in a creative funk lately. I haven't had energy to create my own visuals and so instead I've resorted to a slew of movies (First Friday Films post coming in a few days). I haven't had energy to create my own words and so I've been reading voraciously the words of others (ISBN ### posts also coming soon). Over Thanksgiving weekend I read "Left to Tell: Discovering God Amidst the Rwandan Holocaust" by Immaculee Ilibagiza, I needed a mindless break so I cruised through David Baldacci's "The Collectors" in two days, and just this morning on my UTA commute I finished "The Kite Runner" by Kahled Hosseini. I usually look forward to writing my ISBN ### posts and processing my thoughts, but this funk has paralyzed me.

Ironically, it was the thoughtful gift of a book from my friend that snapped me out of this creative coma. I haven't read it yet. I haven't even cracked it open. I've done nothing but read her sweet card and put the book on my night stand. The amazing thing, however, is that the moment I saw the cover of the book, I felt my funk snap. It was gone. My mind was immediately alert. My emotional center made riotous noise, upset that I've been ignoring it. "The Hidden Messages in Water" by Masaru Emoto brought with it not only an appreciation for my friend, but also a flood of memories from a past relationship, conversations, love letters, pillow talk, all of it washed over me in a single instant. My bond with him was the most creatively charged growth experience I've ever had. The same was true for him and our energies combined was a powerful cocktail. The memory of what it feels like to be constantly turned on to the world came rushing back to me.

I'm grateful for my friend gently showing me, even without intending to, that it's time to let this creative coma slip away.

First Friday Films | Take Four

My front yard | Saturday afternoon