I’m blocked. There’s a cork stopper on my stores of imagination and inspiration. No matter how hard I try to dig the cork out, it won’t budge. My imagination won’t see the light of day. I’m lost without it.
I have these moments where all I want to do is write creatively; where nothing can be okay until the words seep from my soul and arrange themselves on a page. But when I sit down to write, nothing comes out. Nothing. I’m a dried up well.
Why is that?
Sometimes I think I will use a trigger word, like “cat” or “artist” or “kite” and use it as a platform from which a story can spring. I get a few sentences this way. For example, “The cat sat before the softly crackling fire. Its day had been long,” or “His fine brush flitted across the brightly coloured canvas, leaving its trail. It was as though there was a brain in his brush telling it where it should land next.” But that is as far as I get.
Is there a scientific explanation as to why artists and writers become separated from their inspiration or imagination? Are there ways that you can train yourself to bring it back? Because one thing is for sure … I want my imagination back. So if you have any tips, please, I am all ears.