Waiting for inspiration.
Even now, as I labour to come up with something clever, I'm waiting for that one moment of inspiration, which shall infuse some life into my mind. Something intelligent. Something fascinating. Something simple.
For what it's worth, I feel like I've been on this never-ending quest to pawn ideas with tenure-track professors, something to attract them to my e-mails so that they're tempted enough to respond. And the more I try, the less I succeed. Well, obviously. Like that'll ever change in the history of humanity. I'm down to the small change of all my ideas, and in the history of ideas, that's absolutely, pun-intended-positively pathetic!
I remember a time when ideas weren't a problem. They just flew at my face, and from my mouth to everyone else's face. (And sometimes to their minds, and ever so rarely, their hearts.) Sadly, I'm no longer able to do that. Posited against the current of mediocrity and loud-mouthed propaganda, I've for some reason reasoned to keep quiet. Let things slide. Let assholes get their way. Y'know, to be sociable, like. I made peace with the fact that I can let my mind unwind as and when I get into a PhD program - oxygen to the brain; a (huge) sigh of relief, et cetera. I wonder now, if the cause has become the effect. I wonder why I wonder, because I know I need to clear my head.
A creative mind doesn't think about inspiration. (Most Langabaga discussions about The Beatles conclude that they never thought about what they were doing.) There's no supreme force that'll suddenly turn a benefactor and throw a bone of inspiration in someone's direction. There's inspiration in a cool glass of water and in the notes of a distant melody, as in the unexpected words of an unknown poet and the eyes of someone in the mirror we know only too well. When I'm teaching the history of ideas, I certainly won't be pawning inspiration for performance; I'll be opening doors. And if someone needs to be inspired, they need only look within.
For what it's worth, I feel like I've been on this never-ending quest to pawn ideas with tenure-track professors, something to attract them to my e-mails so that they're tempted enough to respond. And the more I try, the less I succeed. Well, obviously. Like that'll ever change in the history of humanity. I'm down to the small change of all my ideas, and in the history of ideas, that's absolutely, pun-intended-positively pathetic!
I remember a time when ideas weren't a problem. They just flew at my face, and from my mouth to everyone else's face. (And sometimes to their minds, and ever so rarely, their hearts.) Sadly, I'm no longer able to do that. Posited against the current of mediocrity and loud-mouthed propaganda, I've for some reason reasoned to keep quiet. Let things slide. Let assholes get their way. Y'know, to be sociable, like. I made peace with the fact that I can let my mind unwind as and when I get into a PhD program - oxygen to the brain; a (huge) sigh of relief, et cetera. I wonder now, if the cause has become the effect. I wonder why I wonder, because I know I need to clear my head.
A creative mind doesn't think about inspiration. (Most Langabaga discussions about The Beatles conclude that they never thought about what they were doing.) There's no supreme force that'll suddenly turn a benefactor and throw a bone of inspiration in someone's direction. There's inspiration in a cool glass of water and in the notes of a distant melody, as in the unexpected words of an unknown poet and the eyes of someone in the mirror we know only too well. When I'm teaching the history of ideas, I certainly won't be pawning inspiration for performance; I'll be opening doors. And if someone needs to be inspired, they need only look within.
posted by Anurag at
2:15 PM
1 Comments:
Even so, you should consider yourself lucky for still addressing these questions. You are one of the people who still question their capacity to think, to create ideas...Nowadays we see the society turning more and more "sociable", stereotypized according to certain living- and society-rules...I hate this...anyway...maybe these lines of yours will find echo in some people's heads...
Mihaela M.
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