Sometimes we just can’t get outdoors. Kids are sick. This mama is sick. The inversion is kicking our butts for too many days in a row and the air quality is awful. And then we paint, color, draw, create.
Red is painting the sky he can see out the window; we have an amazing view of the Boise foothills, and we witness the most glorious pinks, purples and rosy hues as day turns to dusk. So maybe this is a slightly outdoors post after all.
I’ve always admired how some artists can return to their studio with the most basic of sketches made in the field; then work them up into the most exquisite final painting. I imagine writing must be similar – mental pen portraits of characters, places etc encountered on a simple day out, then combined into a complex cocktail of a plot to excite the reader.
Thanks! Sometimes it feels like that, more often it doesn’t! It amazes me how often I can’t develop the thought until I write it down
So the blank (virtual pc) page is the portal from which your creative world is born – or does it actually pre-exist in the writer’s sub conscious? Possibly both scenarios work at different times and in different circumstances?