Vast
ocean
A.V.
“Imagination?
It is the one thing beside honesty that a good writer must have. The more he
learns from experience the more he can imagine.” ― Ernest
Hemingway.
A
writer without imagination is like a ship without fuel, stuck in the sea. My
problem is that the waves of my imagination flow out, much more rapidly, than
my ship can hold. The ship signifies my mind. My ship tries to fight against my own rippling tides. As ideas
flow and crash against rocks, while I
try to moderate them, my ship starts to sink. (my ideas are the tides).So how
do I keep a hold of my ship, how do I get a safe bay? I try my best to lower my anchor or at least to manage landing somewhere . Once
I am in a peaceful state of mind,
my ideas settled down. I begin to type
, the music of the sirens.
The
tide keeps entering the main deck, and
every second that passes by,
leads to a vile fight of survival . Im fighting against my own word choices. Imagination is like water, so
pure at first, until it evolves into an elaborate endless rouse.
With buckets full of unneeded distractions, my crew tries its best to
clean the deck. The crew are my ideas enhancements, during my writing process. The
sea is filled with life and despair, keeps knocking to the sides of the ship,
clearly wanting to be let in. But the crew, willing to fight back and to suppress unnecessary ideas tries its best to clear the pathway of water . I steer
this boat slowly , trying to duck
the rocks ,and the waves. Passing the obstacles , and reaching a destination is
the main goal ,when you’re writing.
Once
the tempest is over, the radiant sun clears the cloudy skies. The sea seems still, as if waiting for something to stir up our way. Once
on full scale the ship drift’s through
the sea effortlessly. The wind blows our way , and we all know that the voyage
is almost over. My ideas are fitting ,
and I seem to be inspired, my writing is coming as I expected it to.
But
just when you think, that the path
you’re going through is steady, something blocks your way. Writers blocks to
say. When that monstrous sea creature, surges
up from your deepest thoughts; where you thought it was safely hidden, and collapses your very
ships structure, all hope seems gone. The giant squid approaches your way.
Splashing and dripping ink everywhere. The madness of its red popping veins of frustration is
apparent. This animal hasn’t eaten in days. It’s been focusing on destroying
the ship, and preventing its every move. The insomniac menagerie of crew man are appalled, panic is everywhere.
Its tentacles are gripping the ships vessel,
and there seems to be no hope.
Everyone is hiding away. What to do? I regain my senses, and after going through a reverie I give a brave answer. “We gotta get a harpoon
mate.” When I get writers block, I start behaving like the kraken, I lose
track and become frustrated. In order to continue my productivity , I must have
a period of stillness, until I
regain my senses, and I’m ready to fight
my way through my ideas.
The
battle ends, and the ship reaches the end of the voyage. After all the hardships, the tiny ship found its way among the stars,
into the right direction.” The real voyage of discovery
consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.”
Marcel Proust. I finally finished my writing phase, did revisions and survived
writers block. Im ready for the critics ,and all the obstacles, that may come
my way. I will finish my work.
