View it from an angle.
Reverse.
Acquire all the knowledge you can; become disheartened by the vastness of your undertaking.
On a Tuesday morning, tumble what you have learned, round and round.
On your roof, hold up your jumbled thoughts, backlit by the sun.
Look through them.
* * *
You have to create a problem.
A work of art is a problem you create, a problem you solve.
Before you define your question, your answer presents itself. A split second, ungraspable.
Once you articulate what needs to be solved, the answer is lost.
Someday a new solution might emerge.
* * *
I resisted a play. The play was smart; I was exhilarated. I fell in love with the drama, then hated myself. Another person's creativity never brings me pure pleasure.
I don't write plays. I doubt I ever will. But I am jealous of playwrights.
During the play, I felt a new kind of possibility, a hiccup.
* * *
Not easy, not now, perhaps not soon, but with more work than I can imagine...maybe.
