late night conversation

Talking till words have become cumbersome, the tongue furs and slurs round consonants and vowels which are are bitter in the mouth, like grit between teeth. Repetitious situations and conversation frustrate me yet when tiredness overwhelms me i fall prey to this malice also. If i have the pleasure of uncharted territory, unblemished by my cynical intuitive perception, then i can express, however contradictions and ties keep me in a form of stasis. These bonds with each and everyone are alive with the tenuous connection we have, this electricity of intimacy which strobes and crackles amongst us and yet it seems only my fingers are burnt by its lightening forks!

The creative urge

A child will create without any hesitance, the act of creative output as natural and uninhibited as breathing or laughing is. As we age the criticisms of the world will often encroach upon our creative urge. We develop a fear, the weight of experience which stays the hand before it places words to paper or paint to canvas. The fear of the blank page can become overwhelming, our natural impulse to simply create in a naive but true fashion is stifled. The critical implications of being assessed or of being our own critics will stop so many images being painted or written. We need to return to the child likeness, to be naive and open to our own creative urge.... to simply do and make, the criticisms of others will be valid but we should never allow these to stop us from creating in the first place !