I spent all of last week in New York with a housemate for Spring Break. As a brief summary, I had a fantastic week, but just traveling and having no real job but to experience things and sightsee and take in the world was really relieving and eye-opening.
I love to write (if the blog or the numerous posts up until this point didn’t clue you in already). In junior high, I wrote a short book, published entirely online, and then removed it all a little while later in an interesting teenage attempt to erase myself online. It wasn’t a particularly good book, but it was a story that possessed me and wouldn’t let me go until I’d written in out. I don’t even remember how it ends, or even what happens.
I recently felt another story coming on, like those sneezes that tempt you and then don’t actually manifest. And being in New York gave me a lot of ideas, just because it was a break in the norm — I was away from home and away from the routine of going to my parents’ home on breaks and seeing new things. I started to remember when I was younger, bored with school, and lived to have those new experiences and to condense all the things I loved about the museums and the travel and the stories into narratives of my own.
I tried to puzzle out what happened between then and now, when I’d stopped seeing stories and hearing songs in the small things I met with every day. I put it down to college, basically. But its also a neglect on my part. I feel as if a redirecting of my creative brain away from analytical papers and back to artistic endeavors may be in short order (at least for a little while).
What I’m eventually trying to get at here is it all comes back down to openness. Interruptions, reversals, sudden stops and falls wake us up to where we are and who we are with, and make us listen to the world around us more. For me, that looks like stories, and sometimes pictures that I may or may not draw. It may look different for you, or not.
Seek out the new, or the unseen, even if you don’t like it, experiences are precious.