Perhaps it's the solitude of late, but for some reason, writing just FLOWS out of me lately. All kinds of writing. Emails, poetry, blogging, Disney articles (yes, Tim, the next one is on its way!), Facebook messages... you name it! They just keep on flowing out. My work at my day job (which has nothing at all to do with writing) productivity has gone up the last 2 days (after a dismal week of awefulness we won't even bother discussing here). Could it be I'm happier lately?
Maybe just a smidge. I'm looking forward to a Disneyland trip next week (yeah!)and seeing some old friends that I missed on my last visit home.
I'm really glad it's happening though - the writing I mean. I'm in a much better space mentally for this kind of stuff now. It means my imagination is well fed and looking for a way to overflow. And for an artist, that's kind of exciting.
The best part is, I'm not doing any of this for money. There is no foreseeable paycheck involved. I'm doing it for me. The only true place where are can come from. It's just expressing itself all over the place, and I've decided to direct it, rather than try to cap it. So I'm working on my articles well ahead of time, rather than smashing my head against a deadline. The storyline and characters for my book continue to flesh themselves out in my head and on paper - and actually make me wonder if this COULD be publish worthy, once I figure out where it's going.
I guess there is a term for this kind of artistic diarrhea...