[...] You have to have that gift every now and again. And when the gift comes, you open yourself to it and the words just flow and you love it and that’s what the whole process is about. It’s really a way of going outside of myself. The sculpting and the chiseling and the work is more of a different discipline altogether. And I get tired of myself. I’m too aware of my limitations there and I’m always working against my limitations. So it’s claustrophobic for a while. And I wonder, is it ever going to get any better, because it’s me talking to me, what do I know? So you need that infusion from somewhere else, whether you call it the muse, or the unconscious, or whatever. It has to swing in, you have to be visited, I think. At least this writer does.
[...] You have to have that gift every now and again. And when the gift comes, you open yourself to it and the words just flow and you love it and that’s what the whole process is about. It’s really a way of going outside of myself. The sculpting and the chiseling and the work is more of a different discipline altogether. And I get tired of myself. I’m too aware of my limitations there and I’m always working against my limitations. So it’s claustrophobic for a while. And I wonder, is it ever going to get any better, because it’s me talking to me, what do I know? So you need that infusion from somewhere else, whether you call it the muse, or the unconscious, or whatever. It has to swing in, you have to be visited, I think. At least this writer does.