The labor of love is still labor, and the procrastinator in me is ready to take on any challenger and fight them later…much later. Teaching for three colleges takes its toll, especially in my creative spirit. I have numerous ideas, which spawn whole novel concepts, which I jot down hurriedly, and then realize that I literally have no time that I feel I can write them in detail.
I feel like a shallow mud puddle skipper of creativity. The ideas are there, but there is no time to say hello to the deep thrashing of ideas and carve out something that resembles what appears in my mind. It’s so beautiful in my mind, so it’s impossible to replicate it, right?
I have been studying various theories of education, research, and wracking my brain and my timepiece to meet all of the requirements. Teaching 6 plus courses and taking a post graduate class is not exactly easy. In fact, I should be terrified, if I weren’t so bloody tired.
So sparking the creative juices, which will remain bottled, preserved, and hopefully won’t evaporate before sampling, is quite difficult. Creativity begs for response. I need to create. I feel constrained by choices made and promises given, which others have no problem breaking.
So onward summer, “if music be the food of love, play on. give me excess of it”, and “if writing is the key to sanity, trudge on.”
I had an idea for a sequel to the book I published, and now remains the scheduling it in to write the damn thing. And the three, four, no, probably five other books that occurred to me that I should write. Yes, it’s the labor part that’s the sticking point.
The song “Mary, Mary Quite Contrary” resembles my creative brain on procrastination….long to create…and fear it desperately.
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