Breathe (3:22 a.m.)

2 a.m. and I'm still awake writing a song/If I get it all down on paper its no longer inside of me/threatening the life it belongs to/and I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd/cause these words are my diary screaming out loud/and I know that you'll use them however you want to

Anna Nalick/Breathe (2 a.m.)

Actually, it's 3:22 a.m. and I'm still awake because I had entirely too much coffee tonight. Nevertheless, I'm sitting here writing because I feel like I have to. There is nothing else that I can do. Well, there are things that I could be done-like sleeping for one, or washing this morning's cereal bowl, or answering the string of emails I've neglected over the past week-but none of these things are as compelling as writing is right now. And I'm not even sure I have anything to say but here I am, in front of this blasted screen, knowing that tomorrow morning is quick approaching.

Does anyone have any insight into how all of this works? Why is it that the cereal bowl loses tonight but inevitably wins when I have carved out the time to write, am seated in my favorite chair with well-chosen music playing in the background, and have decided exactly what it is that I want to communicate?

Many people talk about inspiration. Others insist that art is born out of discipline. Maybe it is a combination of both. My experience diverges sharply from either theory. I mostly write out of emotional necessity. Honestly, sometimes writing tips the scales back toward sanity for me when I am getting dangerously close to losing it. It grounds me. It brings all of the things in my head into reality.

Furthermore, how is it that I find the guts to strip naked emotionally on paper? I can't believe some of the things I've posted on my blog...things I honestly believe I could not use my voice box to say. In fact, now that I think about it, I can't believe that I just told you that I'm sometimes dangerously close to mental meltdown!?

I had a sort-of-conversation about this awhile back with my artsy sort-of-neighbor...wish we could have finished it but we got interrupted. Do you mind helping me answer some of the questions that were asked but not answered?

Why do you create? What is your impetus? How are your motivations for writing or painting or photographing or programming or crocheting or playing/plucking/strumming _______ different than my motivations for doing what I do? What is it about creativity that communicates more fully? Does it? Always? Sometimes? Never?

Answer. Ask. Philosophize. Theorize. Opinionize. Let's engage.