What is inspiration?
Inspiration is the chase of the indefinable. It is when someone produces something he is not normally capable of producing. It is when, out of the ether, one shouts ‘Eureka’. It is when circumstances, when all the little things and the big things, culminate a moment of clarity. It is a thing of beauty. Like all things of beauty, if you don’t take care, you will lose it. And like all things of beauty, its value triples when it is lost.
It seems easy. To tell a story, to hum a tune, to paint a picture. All that one needs to do is to do it. Big deal. Except when it comes down to writing, the words aren’t there. The music sounds awful. There is no perspective in the lines, the car and the passenger are the same size. It isn’t easy.
And when those moments do come, they boggle us. What is one meant to do? I have a phrase, just a phrase in my mind that is my so-called inspiration. All I know is that it has the potential to be brilliant. But potential doesn’t do it alone. I know I can tell the story, it sounds brilliant in my head, but writing it seems impossible. Where have the words gone? I’ve been saying this for a long time. Where have the words gone?
the words have left
but there is a memory
and an itch, in the back of my skull,
in the place they should be.