Work

“When you cannot create, you can work.” – Henry Miller

(I will try and write a post sans cursing for all the delicate eared people out there.)

I often find myself staring at a couple thousand words and thinking “Well what the heck should I do now.”

I can imagine painters feeling this way, or composers, after a few hours worth of free flowing creativity suddenly you dry up. You hit the dreaded writers block. The expression, to paint yourself into a corner, never seemed to make so much sense. That is when the above quote kicks in. When you dry up, can you work through it? When the words stop coming to you, when the notes no longer fit, when your painting start to sag, can you turn off the creative switch and turn on the labor one?

Most people try to become artists because they don’t want to work. Your second rate musicians, your photographers, your blog writers, screw me right. The difference between your average hack and a real working artists (as in employed, and/or not me) is the work portion of the equation. Obviously you need talent, regardless of how much work you put in, if you have no talent it’s useless. Although the Twilight novels are huge no talent volumes of poop suck writing, so I guess as long as you pander to mindless adolescents, sex depraved middle aged woman, and super queer dudes, talent isn’t that important, throw Lady Gaga and Justin Bieber in there too. So really work is paramount. If you can spew ten’s of thousands of words then you at least have a shot. Given you find the right market.

The reason I started to play guitar was because it gave me an outlet to create and because chicks dig that stuff. The reason I never considered it as a career was that once it became work, I lost it. Once I tried to write a song in a manner that could be considered professional, the music sound flat to me. The amount of work needed out weighed my love for it. This is why some pro athletes, enter your Albert Hayneswoth’s of the world, never make it at the next level. To be talented is one thing, to be willing to work with you talent is another.

So at this moment I have three or four other posts in the oven. I am working on short stories to submit into contests. I am reading three books and writing down words I don’t know, or that I really like, to use in my writing. I am not doing all that and instead trying to bang out this post is because it needs banging. This is not creativity, this is work. These words are work words. This is trying to kick down the colossal mind turd that is wedged behind my eyeballs right now. All other things are on hold because I cannot focus on them. At time like these I often sit down with a few pages of Nietzsche. That dude was fricking crazy but he tends to knock something loose in me. Reading philosophy is like running on the beach for your brain. Reading something that complicated and involved makes me realize creativity is exciting and fulfilling, the hook that catches you, but you often have to work with your creativity in order for it to have any real substance. No one writes a 100,000 word novel without putting in 50,000 work words.

As far as the cursing goes, allow me to explain.

Writers and really all artists in general use profanity with a purpose. When I write something profane, or when the painter paints something uncivilized, when a musician puts it in their song, it is for effect. We are relating what we feel or see. The things that have attracted my mind have always been the things many people consider uncivilized, improper, illegal, dangerous, possibly down right wrong. The words lend too to a added intensity, possibly to demonstrate disgust. Usually, I believe, it is a challenge to society. A stone thrown at the monolith that is proper etiquette, not because it is malicious or evil, but because people are just stinking silly over it. Focusing on the word instead of the action. If we don’t discuss it then it will not exist. Like Voldemort, or an ex-girlfriend.

My point is that I find irony in the fact we can’t say sh*t, because everyone sh*ts, we have a whole room devoted to it. Everybody f&cks or at least tries to and if you don’t well then I feel sorry for you. Because f*cking is f&*king fun.  We all have a#%holes, most men have c$cks and b@lls, woman own the beautiful flower that can be referred to as a pu*sy or god forbid a c#nt, sometimes people can act like ni#$ers, j^w’s,sp&c’s,fa%%ot’s, who$e’s, or (personal favorite) do#ch*bags  and we all know what that means. I like these words. Specifically because you don’t want me to use them, I like them. Call it childish, you’re right, it is. But the fact that you shouldn’t use them because it is not polite seems childish to me. We are all adults here. Are we so delicate that we cannot discuss things that makes us uncomfortable? If we were not so devoted to maintaining the walls of etiquette and proper manners than we could come a little closer together.

On the other hand perhaps cursing makes me sound ignorant, or I use it as a cheap thrill. That is a fare criticism. I will be more conscious of it. Upon reading this post I found the lack of profanity almost refreshing. But if the sentence calls for a f%ck I am not going to dismiss the word because it is obscene. Lots of my favorite things are obscene. If I deleted them from my writing then it would be false. And probably boring. Even the Bible is filled with screwing and killing.

So in the end I had to get this one out. Because I needed to write today and I had nothing. So I passed this black bloody turd of a post, just to disinherit it from my colon. I hope the next letters I place here find both myself and you, my dear reader in a better state of mind. Even now I feel the veil of indecision and mental fatigue starting to pass. I guess all I needed to do was rub one out. So until next time, in the words of George Carlin “F%ck, sh*t, b!tch, cu*t, c@ck, and tit$.”

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