Create, and devastate


For a creative person, it’s surprising how little time I spend every week actually making things. I write a little, I do a little laundry, watch TV, eat toast, etc., but in the midst of a busy work week, and the time in between office hours spent recovering from said office hours, I don’t create. If that’s true, am I creative at all?

There’s a theory that creativity is a muscle, and it needs to be flexed and stretched on a regular basis so it doesn’t wither and weaken. With such disuse, my creative muscle is spindly as hell right now. That’s why one of my resolutions for the not-so-new-anymore New Year is to create more. Every day I will put one thing into the world that wasn’t there before. The good news is every creative project I tackle doesn’t have to be the Sistine Chapel ceiling or the Mona Lisa. Baking a pot pie is creating. So is opening MS Paint to draw a happy little pig with my finger and touchscreen. Preferably, though, I’ll create more stuff I can share with more people, like stories and books and poems. I think this blog counts as creative, but I’ll pretend it doesn’t so I’m moved to do more stuff. In conclusion, a haiku.

Weiner dogs howling
In the apartment above

I hate my neighbors



Writer, drinker, arbiter of sarcasm.

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