Sometimes I believe the creative portion of my brain is like a burning flame.
When a candle is first lit, the flame dances with excitement before easing into a steady burn, and eventually fading away.
Recently, having the opportunity to create has been more frustrating than I imagined it ever would be. I thought having the freedom to be creative meant I would attempt to turn a thought into reality, not end up with multiple sheets of crumpled paper and internally screaming while staring at my laptop screen.
Usually, my mind is that flame dancing and flickering with motivation. I always enjoyed that feeling when a random sight or phrase would inspire me to create, jotting down all the details I could envision coming together. Recently, I feel like putting words on paper or piecing together elements has grown difficult.
I envy creatives and writers who are constantly feeding their work into the world. That is something I aspire to do consistently, and do well. I’m not sure when the eager spark in me dimmed. Maybe I stopped being so easily inspired, or maybe I went way in over my head with what I thought I could produce.
The flame that dances wildly, as if it doesn't have a care in the world, eventually will return. I think I have to dig deeper to find the little things that inspire me, in hopes to craft pieces not worthy enough to inspire someone else.