Those who know me know that I am not a big fan of doing stuff. When I do something it’s usually because I know that when I come back home people will be off my back for a while about staying in all the time. And also when my mum calls and gives me a rundown of all the things she has done and then stops and says, ‘Ok now what have you been doing?’ I have a story more action-packed than, ‘I drew a very pretty donkey today.’
There’s another reason as well and that is that I had always believed that doing stuff would inspire me to draw or write about more interesting things. Except now I’m starting to realise that the more things I do, the less inspired I get! Weird, I know. I don’t know why this is.
Take these past three weeks for example (when I have been quite a bit more happening that my usual) you can’t believe how many things I’ve written and not posted on here just because they were rubbish and sounded a bit like my essays of ‘How did you spend your summer’ at school.
I don’t know if this is normal or if it’s just me being strange again but I have come to the conclusion (that for me at least), ‘Creativity loves stillness’.