I’ve been thinking more about your idea of writer’s ‘block’ as a symptom of fear. There are two things which occur to me.
- The experience of sitting down to a blank page and feeling sensory overload when all the possibilities come crowding in, is almost like a tsunami. This can all too easily become defended against by an overwhelming blank. My second point elaborates on this a little.
- Writing is venturing into a different state of openness, where everything is provisional, in process, uncertain, feeling a way in the dark, tolerating a suspension of the ‘control’ we like to think we have (akin to Keats' ‘negative capability') and whilst this is exciting and a powerful motive it can also be challenged by our default need for surety, stability, pattern etc, a kind of deadening of too much excitement. It’s a continual struggle for everyone, not only creatives, but perhaps especially for them/us.
From Jim Friedman:
I’ve been thinking more about your idea of writer’s ‘block’ as a symptom of fear. There are two things which occur to me.
- The experience of sitting down to a blank page and feeling sensory overload when all the possibilities come crowding in, is almost like a tsunami. This can all too easily become defended against by an overwhelming blank. My second point elaborates on this a little.
- Writing is venturing into a different state of openness, where everything is provisional, in process, uncertain, feeling a way in the dark, tolerating a suspension of the ‘control’ we like to think we have (akin to Keats' ‘negative capability') and whilst this is exciting and a powerful motive it can also be challenged by our default need for surety, stability, pattern etc, a kind of deadening of too much excitement. It’s a continual struggle for everyone, not only creatives, but perhaps especially for them/us.