A Moment Of Clarity
'What do you do when you need some clarity?' he asked me.
'I write,' I replied.
Knowing that this is an outlet for my frustration, my solace as the world swirls in a tornado of emotions around me, I wonder why I hadn't resorted to this earlier.
Frustration has indeed built up over a certain demand to meet a deadline. And I have discussed with a friend - how words fail you when you need them the most. Or in other words, the non-existence of 'creativity on demand,' the perfect definition for the situation I am in. And I am in awe of how journalists do it - produce articles at the snap of a finger.
For me, writing comes from inspiration. And inspiration, as I have seen over the course of a little more than a year, does not deliver under pressure. A good friend, and brilliant guitarist, spoke to me how music does not happen when your heart and soul - and therefore your mood - is not in it. Writing, what I consider another art, a form of expression, is a reflection of the heart and soul of the performer.
All day I rummaged around for inspiration. In fact, I spent the earlier half of my evening yesterday in similar desperation. The Sunday Times failed me, as the one day I longed for their inspirational quotes, they did not feature.
I emerge empty handed after my search for inspiration. But I have learnt a lesson. Write your heart. The basis of my findings? Well I spent hours attempting to write three lines for an article, but spent ten minutes to write this post. And I know the task would have been completed with greater finesse had the final match of the India-Pakistan series not being going on on my television screen. *giggle*
Perhaps I have not emerged victorious in the inspiration department. But surely I have attained my moment of clarity.
'I write,' I replied.
Knowing that this is an outlet for my frustration, my solace as the world swirls in a tornado of emotions around me, I wonder why I hadn't resorted to this earlier.
Frustration has indeed built up over a certain demand to meet a deadline. And I have discussed with a friend - how words fail you when you need them the most. Or in other words, the non-existence of 'creativity on demand,' the perfect definition for the situation I am in. And I am in awe of how journalists do it - produce articles at the snap of a finger.
For me, writing comes from inspiration. And inspiration, as I have seen over the course of a little more than a year, does not deliver under pressure. A good friend, and brilliant guitarist, spoke to me how music does not happen when your heart and soul - and therefore your mood - is not in it. Writing, what I consider another art, a form of expression, is a reflection of the heart and soul of the performer.
All day I rummaged around for inspiration. In fact, I spent the earlier half of my evening yesterday in similar desperation. The Sunday Times failed me, as the one day I longed for their inspirational quotes, they did not feature.
I emerge empty handed after my search for inspiration. But I have learnt a lesson. Write your heart. The basis of my findings? Well I spent hours attempting to write three lines for an article, but spent ten minutes to write this post. And I know the task would have been completed with greater finesse had the final match of the India-Pakistan series not being going on on my television screen. *giggle*
Perhaps I have not emerged victorious in the inspiration department. But surely I have attained my moment of clarity.
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