Blogposts the Summer Fantastic
Last summer, my creativity was riding its bike, and then I saw it topple over and hit a tree.
I ran to it, unleashing my CPR training.
"You! Call 9-1-1!" I bellowed out to Nigra.
"You," I shouted at Maeve, "get the AED!"
And I went to work. I pressed on its chest thirty times. I breathed into its mouth. I pressed on its chest again, counting maniacally.
Once Maeve brought over the AED, I placed the pads in the right places: 11 o'clock and 4 o'clock.
I turned it on. It wooed and beeped. The electric-light woman came alive and started telling me what to do.
"Everybody stand back," I said. "The area is clear."
I followed every direction. I pressed the green button. She proclaimed that she was shooting jolts of electricity into its body.
After a few moments of charges, woots, sirens, and beeps, the AED turned off.
But it was too late.
My creativity had died.
And I went through the summer barely reading. I didn't touch my website, and I found it difficult to even write a word. I had no desire to even create anything. For a lack of better words, this made me sad, but I had also ended a two-year streak filled with creativity. It wasn't aimed at my own writing or this website, but I had become a better teacher and pushed my little middle school journalism program online.
I think last summer, I suffered from brain-drain.
I don't want that to happen again. In order to be creative, I need to push myself, even if what I write or post is garbage. I learned, especially after posting for 40 straight days this past spring, that creativity cycles. I must cycle through the muck in order to find a diamond hidden in it.
And sometimes it's the Blue Moon Diamond.