Last year I forced myself to write each blog post incorporating a movie title into the entry. It was a challenging endeavor and one that changed the course of my thoughts quite frequently and diffused my desire to write when inspiration simply was not drawn from the cinema marquees.
It was at times, just plain hard.
As the new year rolls in, with day two making its appearance, I’ve lifted the self-imposed rules and decided that words will come from where they come and inspiration will drive my fingers across the keys.
It feels liberating. It feels invigorating. It feels free.
The other thing I’ve stopped is the daily countdown indicating the day of the year as we make our way toward 365 again. Why count the days when they are going to elapse as quickly as they do? Besides, it feels a little creepy, almost as if I’m stalking the calendar.
This practice is stopping too.
So with no films to quote and no days to count, I’m simply going to write with no expectation or forethought, with absolutely no restriction of topic or day – the words will flow and I will populate the page until the thoughts find their natural conclusion.
It feels good to embrace this freedom. It feels better to not live within the constraints of a boundary. It feels daring to write across and over the margin.
It feels good to be free.
Yet I am still troubled. As an artist, I will never be truly liberated from the impetus of my craft, I will forever feel the marriage of thought and language driving me toward creation and I will always heed the call of creativity for its solemn credo is branded into my soul.
I am and will forever be a writer and while I can proclaim that I am free at last and I can let freedom ring, I am also painfully aware, almost ironically, that I will always be a slave to my own freedom of expression because my words will never be silent.