A Journal Entry & Writer's Block
Composed on Thursday, 3/23/23 5:10am. Journal written to songs, "I Waited For You" by the Miles Davis Sextet, & "Change of the Guard" by Kamasi Washington. Westchester, Los Angeles, California.
I’ve found myself overthinking a lot. Especially with the use of my words and how I write. I find myself counting how many pages I wrote and the quantity of my words. At times I find myself stuck on what I wanna say next. Sometimes the thought of the quantity of words frightens me. Not the quality. And I wonder why that is. And where that fear came from. Probably from school. I don’t think I’m the greatest writer in the world, but I think I’m pretty decent. For years I thought I was terrible at it. From a white supremacist patriarchal elitist societal perspective, I probably am. But I’m not writing for them. I’m writing for me first and for my people. I have to learn not to think so much and let my thoughts flow as if I’m water moving gracefully, in waves through the beach of Pacific Palisades, California…
I wonder if I got writer’s block. Or maybe I’m just thinking too hard. I’m just stuck in this weird zone. I haven’t eaten that much so maybe I’m just hungry and lack of nutrition can affect your thinking process.
I been tappin’ into other mediums to enjoy my work process and flow through my creativity. Inspiration from other mediums help me keep goin’ as well. I forgot about how much I enjoyed reading while listening to music. I was able to get through 50 pages of Disibility Visibilty while listening to Lo-fi. It took me about 1 hour and 40 minutes. I felt a sense of flow. And I didn’t get so easily distracted. It’s very easy for me to drift in thought while I’m surrounded by silence. Sometimes if it’s too quiet, I get nervous. Ever since that earthquake that woke me up outta my sleep (twice) a few weeks ago, I find myself feeling slightly anxious, especially during my last moments of meditation. Maybe I should go back to therapy for this. Or smoke a blunt. Or sip a lil somethin’ somethin’. I think about that often. I’ve never been drunk by myself. But I wonder how my creativity would flourish if I was under the influence. It helped for Charles Bukowski. James Baldwin too. I ain’t no alcoholic, nor am I personally accusing Bukowski and Baldwin of alcoholism with records saying they were. I obviously never knew them personally. But I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the truth though. It can be challenging to express your inner thoughts without any type of influence. But the feeling of free thought and actions seem easier when you’re lit.
What’s the essence of drugs and alcohol among creatives? Perhaps some artists feel that soberness stunt their growth of creativity. Or maybe they were afraid of their closeted insecurities. Past traumas and paranoia play factors as well. Unchecked check-ins contribute to bliss too. Too many factors to list… Maybe they feared feeling stuck in the mud and the effort to think felt strenuous. It’s totally understandable. I get it. Enhancement assistance feels good. Bruce Lee once said “Don’t think. Feel.” Maybe they struggle to “feel.” Perhaps thinking is a detriment to self when you are creating in the moment but a benefit once you stop your creative process and proceed to critical polishing. You cannot critique during the seconds of action. Hence the term, “stop and think.” Oftentimes, thinking prevents you from taking any sorts of action. Fix the product later if you have to. And thinking can be exhausting. How often do you squabble with your internal turmoil? Don’t let your fears turn into Evander Holyfield and knock you out. Just do what you feel. Drugs and alcohol are not required to feel. But if you participate, please be careful. The flow is something within you that can feel pretty spiritual at times. I don’t have the answers to why that is. But it gotta come from somewhere. Objects that you use to create also have a spirit. Word to Bayyinah Bello. I admired her 1997 lecture connecting the Ayitian Revolution to the self-reflection of your soul at war internally and externally. Peeped a lot of game.
The gift of free feeling is a big reason why I love jazz. The artists feel the improvisation within their souls. Spirits beyond them vibrationally collaborate to construct beautiful notes in such cohesive time all while losing the thought of time. Who gives a fuck about time in these moments? What the fuck are moments anyway? They don’t think about these moments. They can’t. Forget about all that shit. Just play. They’re in the zone. And sometimes, such vibrations possess your spirit so vastly to the point where you are no longer on Earth. Nothing wrong with that.
The zone is a lovely place to be in. It’s a gift to enter that space. It’s a sacred space to allow yourself to own your space. It’s a sacred space to allow your art to flourish. YOURSELF TO FLOURISH. DO NOT BE AFRAID TO REACH THAT PLACE. Your spirit will synchronize with passion once you enter this realm. This home. You can rest or run. Sleep or awaken. Scream, sing, play, and work with joy. If it feels forced, then you ain’t there. You get there because you surrendered your thoughts to get there. So why not allow your thoughts to turn off and let your heart and your soul elevate euphorically, ya dig? You deserve that.
I find myself thriving when I’m in that space where I allow myself to surrender. Leave your thoughts at the door and pick them up when you leave. I’m too rigid. I know I’m a Taurus and I refuse to be pushed when I don’t wanna be pushed unless I’m on my own terms, but once I’m pushed, I’m gone. Allow yourself to drift more through your work and your arts. I guarantee that you’ll be okay. I know you will. You’ll know what that feeling is. Your body will let you know. Listen to it. Let it sway you. Get your flow on. That’s your mission.
Remember that you are ART. No such thing as the absence of art. Art requires a story. No such thing as anything without a story. The absence of story is impossible. Therefore, art is inevitable. You have a story. YOU’RE A STORY. YOU COME FROM STORIES.
I’m glad you’re here.
Dearly divine, and my ancestors, thank y’all for allowing the flow to guide through me. I Love y’all.
I Love you.
Asé
I feel the flow you just described!