No visions coming for my visual art.
No words for my writing.
I can’t even sit at the canvas, the keyboard.
Well, here you are so why not write out from inside the block.
Scream your silence.
That was from some muse (lower case m) locked up in the basement.
What — like this, I asked?
I guess if I have Nothing to say — that’s saying something.
Semaphore your voice. Morse code some letters. Stick some images on top of each other. Maybe you’ll cough up something.
I still read a lot and I recently saw a quote by a multidemensional being from the future, named Bashar, which made me giggle. “If you have writer’s block, write about having writer’s block, and you will no longer have it.”
That’s it, that’s it.
And Sylvia Plath said; Every day, writing. No matter how bad. Something will come.
I can’t even muster desperation about it though, no contemplations of pills or rope or jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge. That would be theatrical — and drama has weight after all. This Nothing is more like a hammock, only slightly uncomfortable.
(I’m grateful you’re not in the suicide spectrum.)
You’ve seen the inspirational articles on Medium — they all say this will pass.
So the carrot is that this is temporary state, right? A change of ambition awaits just over the rainbow, right?
Well . . .
Well . . if I could buy a ticket on that loco-motive I wouldn’t bother with this—I’d just wait for it to come around again on the guitar.
Kurt Vonnegut sticks his head out of the ticket seller’s window and taunts: Who is more to be pitied, a writer bound and gagged by policemen or one living in perfect freedom who has nothing more to say?
Hey, buddy, hold off on the pity. You know what Janis said about freedom.
For now there are no indications of any arrivals here at Nothing Junction and that’s mostly okay — I’m grateful for this beautiful autumn weather and rather enjoying the sound of crickets.
Aha, you just said for now!
Yes dear, I did say for now.
Going out with a song: “Nothing” by the Fugs.
© AleXander Hirka 2019. All Rights Reserved.
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For your consideration, my blog: Tempest Tossed in New York City — writing and art and life in New York City