Create, create, create! - do something, sing something, paint or draw or plant or knit or tidy up - just DO something with that feeling of... of... what, exactly? Words like "fizzing" come to mind; but that sounds joyous and uncontained, and this feeling is not those things. It is deeper, stronger, and even, perhaps, darker. When the need to create is unmet - the thing not drawn, the poem not written, the page left blank - that creative urge turns muddy, sours my thoughts.
YET... yet... it does not, will not, leave. The staying-power of the need to be creative: THAT is new. In the past, it has gripped me for a day, or perhaps two; now, it has stayed for a week. I feel as if I am missing some clue as to WHAT this impulse is urging me towards - what is it that I must do, to satisfy it? "Start writing a book" - yes, but what about? I have so many ideas, yet none seems able to bear the weight of that word "book". "So write a chapter - see what happens!" Yes, well, maybe that would work... Maybe just writing this page is a key, a turn of the kaleidoscope that will reveal the next pattern...
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