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Claudia
I wrote my first novel, Smudge's Mark, in a closet. No joke.
Thursday, February 26, 2009

Newborn Inspiration

Oh boy, here we go, I said to myself last night as I got out of bed and stumbled downstairs to retrieve my artist's-style notebook, yet again.

Once inspiration hits, it doesn't stop. Not even when my body's exhausted and just wants - needs - to sleep. Not when I'm trying to eat my dinner while it's still hot - or at least still warm. Not while I'm sitting in the orthodontist's office, waiting for my son. Not even while I'm trying to blog... Excuse me, I'll be right back.

Inspiration is demanding, you know. I almost feel like I've had another baby. Almost. Like a newborn, inspiration demands to be noticed, held, cradled, rocked, fed, and then burped. And it wants it now! Whatever you're doing must wait. (Side note: Inspiration burps are never small and cute. They're big and messy, easily filling a few sheets at a time!)

But I'm not complaining. Oh, no, I'm definitely not complaining! Like with a newborn, the mysterious creature who has been growing, hidden away in a secret place for what seems an eternity, has finally come out to make itself known. The wait and anticipation of this moment has been far too long, and the result is far too precious, to bemoan the present responsibility of meeting its every demand. And although at times it feels like your very life is being controlled by this new entity, you wouldn't have it any other way.

Now, the real challenge is having the wisdom to balance nurturing, guidance, and cultivation so it has the freedom, within realistic boundaries, to bloom and mature into its full potential.

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