The wind outside was blowing so madly you couldn't hold a window open for two seconds without a door flinging open and slamming itself to the wall. It seemed like the weather was mimicking the insides of my brain, where an almighty storm was about to happen.
All I was waiting for was the spark of a lightning, knowing that the saving thunder of inspiration was about to follow it. "Please, oh please, God, save me from this torment and deliver the loud sound of the skies' bowels!"
And then...
Then it struck me.
It struck me like a crowbar to the back of my head.
Mind me, it was not the inspiration I was passively waiting for.
It was the idea that inspiration was to be an active concept, not something I have to wait to happen to me.
I had to act on this.
No comments:
Post a Comment