Finding a metaphor
I’ve always been a guy for metaphors.
It’s how I try and make sense of the things happening inside my head that I can’t really understand.
My thoughts are like an organized (or disorganized) room full of filing cabinets, with each slot or shelf holding particular thoughts.
Some are dusty and yellowed from having been there for quite some time, others are crumbled and barely held together from continuous use, while others are crisp and clean having been filtered into my thoughts only to be stuffed away, filed under Junk.
Lately though, there’s something I can’t put a metaphor to, and it’s starting to get to me.
I knew this was coming, I even called it a few months back when the words were flowing freely. I knew they would eventually stop.
Part of me knew that it would be once the snow started to fly, but another part of me, armed with duct tape, silenced that voice.
It’s just another season, it has no affect on how you work, keep it up.
Except now, the ground has frozen and with it, my motivation, (there we go with the metaphors again).
During those fall months, the waking and the writing were second nature.
The alarm would peal through the silence at 6 a.m., my eyelids would lift, and I’d be on my feet, opening my laptop and starting the kettle for coffee.
Now, the alarm goes off and it takes all my energy just to lift my hand and hit the snooze button.
By 8 a.m., when it’s really crunch time to get up and to work on time, I’m staring at the ceiling, searching for images in the stucco and letting that self-pity sink in as yet another day has gone by without a single word of fiction written.
I don’t know what it is, but I think I’m just starting to learn it’s how my brain operates.
I’ve written about this exact process twice before, and both of those entires came in the winter months, then when the spring rolls around I’m all abounding with optimism and writing up a storm.
Back to the metaphor, before writing this entry I tried to think of a way to simplify this, some comparator that would make it easy to understand this process, but I’ve got nothing.
Some will say it’s writer’s block, but I wouldn’t agree. I’ve just written over 400 words in the last 20 minutes so something is working up there.
It’s just when it comes to the creative side of things, my creative well freezes in the winter and no amount of coffee or scotch seems to break through it.
But we all know I’ll keeping trying.
Hey, that was a metaphor wasn’t it? Perhaps not the best one though, but it’ll do.
Thanks for reading,