planet

The music pounded into them. She was on the couch on a platform facing the long bar stubbing her Planet out on an ashtray.     #katyamills

momentum. writing process.

You got the scars and now you're seeing stars, you have your vision about you, it's time to write that story and see where it goes, take off all your clothes, undress the wounds. Let them see you. Finally. Picked up the slack and got your pretty self hitting keys with an urgency; that licklack-click-clackallack, riding the train high off your pain, maybe some beats to keep your heartened. What started as a dream became your work in progress.

Now if it's short blast, high frequency flash, sudden or smoke-long, well, you can pick up anytime and push it out. But if it's longer form and you have that kinda stamina, well, it's a momentum game. You will know it when you get there. Another cup of coffee. Don't forget to sleep. Don't forget to dream about it when you're waking. All the time I swear I have it in my head, that WIP. Cause it works itself out, only slowly, with undivided dreaming the plot develops in my emotional darkroom. The container must be sealed, shielded from social media and the drag of everyday life. The fabric stitched together, then torn apart in places and replaced, reconnected to the whole drive, thematic.

The water will be charging you, ionic bond to the vision. Watch out for the dam. When the locks change you may not be able to get back in so easily. Requires extra effort and self-confidence, sometimes. You might break in through a window. Recall must be superb, almost perfect. Next time you get that puppy tail wagging -peeing with unharnessed shaking excitement- take her out to the park and set her free. Stand in the green spring grasses looking over your WIP with pride. Carry the momentum to see your vision through. Let the words take you, and the pain fall, away. By the end? I promise -- the vision will carry you.

Journal # 07.14.15

Maybe I have been digital multitasking for long enough, a few years now almost uninterrupted, and I am not sure it is advantageous to let this go on, there is something calling me from afar, maybe some romance I have for the endurance of thought over time. I guess I have a crush on the idea and sensationalize the image of myself leaning over my desk for days with a fire in my eyes, starving because I forgot to eat, burning ink into the page, turning dreams into silver dust and stars. Of course it's a lot more painstaking usually and not like that at all... but I think I want it back, I long for the extended cuts of uninterrupted working on long form, I tasted it through back to back Novembers (2013 and 2014) and the experience really caught my eye, really turned me on to something I had long ago before my life took its own direction and pulled me away from the writing life. In this crazy world I have finally found the simplicity - after so much trial and error - of lifestyle, I was longing for. Yet I have complicated my simplicity by DIGITAL MULTITASKING, and the link there points out statistics proving more and more detrimental. They say the amount of time it takes for the mind to regain momentum of devoted attention, when pulled away by emails, texts, twitter, social media, is 15+ minutes! Wow. So I look at my own experience and it seems to match. I will be writing, and then get pulled away, and true, it does seem to take quite a while to get back to whatever momentum I had gathered. So anyway, consider it a curiosity. Experiment. I have the private setting and the foundation of former days of undivided attention from which I can shape something magical and then give it to the world inside an open hand cupping an amethyst-dusted eggshell.