face of insomnia, grey streak i've had since sixteen, included.Had the most intense two weeks of creative day and insomniac nights writings followed by silly bouts of tweeting... sometimes you go with what is... even as sleep calls, and the hours and days blend.
It was, for me, amazing to feel/see words unfold into another...
inspiration, instead of my own clumsy forced hand. not saying the words are perfect yet.. the action of creating was divine, and after a mid summer malaise, just the ticket out of the doldrums...
writing uber personal stories, created for yourself, but possibly for public consumption, is scary. that's why i've always appreciated a good singer/songwriter. not only do they write the words, they then perform them. acapella sometimes.
i remember losing muy respect points for a guy i'd dated when he told me he didn't care to do a singer in the round type thing ever, because he needed his (cover?!) band behind him to fully feel his sexuality. huh? (i digress, i feel you should just be your artist self... not be the image of what you think an artist is..)
creation is at it's most beautiful, raggged, bare and stripped of the pretty garnish we sweeten the soundtrack with.
ps. i really dislike brittany spears' voice, it's akin to a soprano sax to my ear. catchy pop, tho.
pps...i 'm in my over rewrite stage on a few things. i encourage you to finish any creative projects you've left half finished or never started.... and if you already do thid w/ aplomb, you get to feel superiour, and i am but a gopi in adrift, at sea.
now i am drained. like this bee... he looks like he's got that end of summer thing going on, don't ya think?
hubbang inub thubbre buubee
