I’ve just completed a writing series called ‘words and pictures’. Before I move onto the next series I thought it would be interesting to share my process. This is for anyone who wants to write.
All in Creativity
I’ve just completed a writing series called ‘words and pictures’. Before I move onto the next series I thought it would be interesting to share my process. This is for anyone who wants to write.
I first learnt to play guitar at uni, sitting on the floor of friends’ small college rooms. Smoking rollies, drinking instant coffee or cheap cask wine and slowly learning guitar chords.
Hello reader words, seer of pictures, thinker of thoughts. Feel like doing some of that together? An idea for a new writing series has arisen, so I’m going for it. It's called Words and Pictures. Every day for the next who knows how many days, I’m going to draw a little picture of something mundane, and write some possibly tedious, possibly transcendental words to go along with it.
My body was wrapped tight in harnesses with long ropes attached. The vividly beautiful face of a Zambian man was inches from mine. That skin. Those teeth. He had hold of the ropes and told me to lean back. “Are you ready?”
“With your feet in the air and your head on the ground,” is the opening line to Where Is My Mind by The Pixies; seminal alt-rock band from the late 80s early 90s. To me it’s the creative’s version of the saying: Head in the clouds, feet on the ground. And this is the ultimate in living a creative life.
The importance of play for childhood development is well documented, but I wonder when and why it stops being important for grown ups? Why do we get serious and forget about magic and simple moments? Kids have so much to teach us.
When I heard those words I dropped the bed sheet I was busy folding into a hospital corner, and stood up with a big stupid grin of enlightenment.
The relationship between writer and writing is like a passionate love affair. We love, we hate; we cry, we laugh; we’re on, we’re off. We ignore each other, obsess over each other; throw roses, throw plates. All in the silence and stillness of a solitary place.