Seasons Change

I have come to realize that writing, like most everything else in life, has its seasons. There are seasons that the ideas will flow like water and everything just clicks and there are other seasons when it is as stagnate as a muck covered small pond, the trick, I suppose is to know from what season your in before you begin writing. The end product will always be a reflection of that season. Conversely writing is also, like any other art form, subjective, there is the intended meaning the creator puts on the work, and the perceived meaning the consumer takes in within the work. it is difficult for the creator to read there own work as a consumer, even when tried the creator will always be unnecessarily harsh. The creator of the work is almost always there own worst critic. I have been going back and forth in my seasons lately, and not even trying to write when the ideas are coming, mostly out of fear that the ideas will stop coming, the current of my imagination will stop flowing, whether this is the case or not I have decided to continue writing if no one else then for myself. I do enjoy writing, the creation of worlds that don’t exist, populating cites with people that never existed except in my own mind. I shall, at least for now, continue to write.