It’s an odd caption for a simple post, but what can I say to a writer who claims that she’s suffering from the Writer’s block?
My post that I did about twenty-four hours ago was about the nothingness that transforms into a writer’s block. Yesterday morning I had lumbered into my home-office, groggy-eyed and half-awake – at 2:25 am! As expected, I didn’t accomplish much, except perhaps the post in question. (Not surprising at all. If you don’t have a writer’s block at 2:25 am, you are super-human.)
Anyway, the lack of cognitive creativity persisted throughout the day and so I turned my attention to my canvas. The canvas that’s right now on the easel is six feet high by three feet wide – the biggest I’ve painted to date. The task has been physically daunting too as to paint the upper edge of the canvas, I need to climb on a low table.
However, for me painting is the stark opposite of writing. This is something that many of my friends fail to understand. Let me explain.
When I write (stories,) my mind must transport me to the time and period that I am writing about. My focus must be strong enough to severe my connections with my present environment and immerse me into the setting of the story. This is why for the last whole year, I haven’t been writing a lot. I am sure many other writers go through such phases in their lives, but when the corn is in your own foot, it hurts the most.
When I paint, my mind relaxes. The process of painting, for me, is a two-phase process. I paint by feeling. So when I’m feeling/emoting strongly, I sketch vigorously. My sketches are done in pens, pencils, charcoal…anything that I can lay my hands on. The sketches grow on me, goading me to paint them – until I cave in and start painting them. I paint oils – mostly because oil paints don’t hinder the brush, which is an extension of my hand, which in turn is controlled by my heart – so they (oil paints) allow my to paint from my heart.
I paint the vision I had captured in my sketches…I don’t choose the colors consciously – the feelings that are bundled up in the image I am painting, guide me. Truthfully, right now my mind isn’t doing a lot of conscious processing – it’s just riding the waves. This is why, even when I’m disturbed, I can paint; but I am finding it difficult to focus and write stories that must have a logical framework.
If you are rolling your eyes, you must be one of my friends 🙂
Image Credits/About:
A quick shot of my notebook with my brushes (that I borrowed from the table which keeps squeaking and groaning under the weight of my paints, mediums, and brushes – you won’t want to see that monstrosity, I suppose.)
Rechargeable Me. 
Leave a comment