Huntress of the Lens


Saturday, September 5, 2009

An empty box and a fickle french woman

I went to my word box this morning, to gather supplies for a blog. Apparently no delivery was made in the night, maybe it's because of the holiday weekend or something. There are a few ifs, ands or buts rattling around on the bottom, but as for finding enough words to string together for a whole essay I just couldn't come up with them. I did have enough to make the sentence "Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country." but that is hardly a blog, that's a test for any common typewriter, the kind with a ribbon.

Sometimes, after having a story for every person who wants one, and a design for everyone who is in line, and a blog for every sun that comes up I just find myself kind of drained and empty. This is one of those mornings. If anyone, it's myself I let down when the box is empty, I expect to be an endless fount of creativity. That's who I am. That's what I do. 

I have had a string of very bad days physically, and I'm afraid that like white blood cells my body has been sending words to fight off the intruders that are attacking my body. I think the cure for this is to read more, I may have to do an extended session of that today, at least until the next delivery arrives. Art has a fickle muse, she grabs me and shakes me and holds me at my desk without sleep or food, then like a french woman who smokes her cigarettes in long thin holders she leaves me for the next attractive lover. Production art is a different matter entirely, I can do that with my eyes closed, which is a metaphor, I wouldn't dream of working blind. Often my clients bring me what they want and I just reproduce. Or retouch. Such is the case today, it won't require any great creativity on my part to pull it off. I can feel the Sundays coming on, where I just end up re=booking everything I have on Sunday because I'm out of Plutonium fuel for the week and need to rest up for the week to come. I used to work 7 days a week for years, and at this moment I can't imagine how I did it.

After this piece, I have the words Aardvark, exponentially, semi-square, tertiary, cruciform, relativistic, and hedgerow left at the bottom of the box. Do with them what you will, I think they're still there because I so rarely use them myself.

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The fish can fly, the dogs and cats dance together and all the flowers are edible.