Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Primordial Soup Stagnant

The primordial ooze of creativity has not been bubbling.  I struggled with getting flow while working on my 2014-NaNoWriMo. It was work. Every sentence, thought, idea was a struggle to type and completing 50,000 words was a battle. For December, I had been planning on writing Flash Fiction, writing blog posts, editing my other novels, critiquing on Critique Circle and in general writing. The blob of stagnation is putrefying in my brain as there is less and less sunlight to brighten my way.

Here, this is it. This is an attempt to bubbling up out of the stagnant water and to write, again.

Watching local dancers create the magic that is the Nutcracker, I receive a small bubble in my primordial soup. I envision Tchaikovsky banging away on a piano forte, penning notes and ideas in black splotchy ink, cracking old stale nuts in the mouth of a nutcracker soldier. The nuts moldy creating hallucinations of sword wielding rats, a blossoming girl in love with a nut eating prince, and twirling gooey sweats. He collapses on the floor giving into his hallucinations and his masterpiece which will become a Christmas time tradition is complete.

Without knowledge about Tchaikovsky's creative process nor even a good historical fact about him, I do know his music for the ballet, The Nutcracker. It is strung through the Christmas music station on Pandora that I play every day starting on the first day of December. I have listened to variations while holiday shopping. Perhaps, it is the sound track for the month of December, though I like a good sprinkling of Peanuts Christmas tunes in the mix. The feeling I get when I hear it is part maniacal exuberance and part panic. 

Maniacal exuberance and panic are odd words to use at Christmas time, but when I watch the 'Snow' dance, it is a mixture of what the season is: the rushing to and fro, joy, a swirl of white, faces with smiles, and sometimes a stumble or a crashing of the dancing snow. It is wondrous and beautiful and I am always a bit sad when the dance and December are over.

By enjoying live performances makes my creative juices start to flow especially when it is just music without words to interrupt a bubble or two of primordial soup. Going to a concert of George Winston or Ethal stimulates my imagination and I need to remember to seek such entertainment when the grey matter is stagnant.

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