Writer’s block and a four-year-old

A boring title that promises a similarly boring topic,non? Perhaps so, but I intend to write through my apparent writer’s block by writing about it. Unoriginal? Probably. Oh well, I just wanted to give my blog a little bit of a love. It’s been sulking ever since I left it for the dissertations and now that I’m back I believe it has taken my writing powers away; only by caressing it with my words can I make it surrender them to me. Hence this inane post that evidently illustrates how tired I still am from the horrible dissertation period of which I will attempt to speak little more of.

So, fear and the difficulty in motivating oneself are, I believe, the main criminal masterminds behind this crippling disease. Fear when writing is a bizarre thing; no words will form as the blank piece of paper (or more commonly computer screen) becomes your enemy, criticising everything you say. Fear of the reader, when most of the time what we write may never be read and even if it is will go through multiple edits. When you do enter the joyous stages when the writing flows this paper transforms and becomes some sort of lover, or any other metaphor you care to insert.

Difficulty in motivating oneself is, I suspect, rather common amongst anybody who sits alone trying to do something all day. Which is why most writers probably talk to themselves or develop some sort of alter-ego. Either that or they find an editor. These people are the lucky ones; the vast majority can be found sitting on their own little island known as ‘bed’, talking to themselves surrounded by a sea of crumpled paper. Or, in the rather more bleak version, sat in a darkened room staring at a blank computer screen and talking to that – which is perhaps a little more upsetting than talking to oneself. If you are a writer and you have children I’d recommend you remain chatting to yourself and throwing paper around, at least then you provide an amusing spectacle.

Speaking of children, apparently we all need to revert to a childlike state in order to create brilliant art. At the age of four, Aelita Andre has an exhibition in New York. Although I think it slightly laughable that someone has paid £6000 for one of these paintings, I do find one of the comments in the BBC News video interesting. As mentioned in this video Aelita has no fear of having to measure up to all the great artists who’ve gone before her. She just does what she wants to do.

Essentially, she is just a kid playing with a large canvas and some good materials. But perhaps all us creative types can learn the value of playing and having fun with our work instead of being crippled by fear. I’m still not sure how the real ‘Abstract Expressionists’ would feel about her being labelled as such, however.


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