paintedsunfl0wers

I’ve been trying to be active. I’ve got so many ideas floating around in my head, but I can’t put them to paper. I have about ten different plots I’d like to try out, but none of them seem to be working together. My writing seems so simple and so overused, and my ideas seem to copy the thing that’s been inspiring me over the course of the day. Once I lose that inspiration, I give up on the story altogether. 
          
          I will write a book that is perfect in a sense of what I’ve been envisioning. Slowly but surely, it will come together. This fatal writer’s block I’ve been struggling with for what seems like years won’t prevent me from saving the ideas and forming them together. 
          
          I want a book that appeals every sense. I want my readers to picture every detail. I want to bring the essence of simple beauty and a plot that drops jaws together so that it seems like a life worth living. I want to inspire a million other stories. I want to put myself into my own storyline and live it with bliss and recollection. 
          
          So many things are important for my writing. 
          
          It’ll take a long time for this perfect book to kick start. But you can bet I’m going to get it down on here. 
          
          I am a writer. Even though I have yet to have anything on display, I love to play with the power of words and countless scenarios. There are so many possibilities in our world. There are so many fantastical figments of imagination that don’t exist in our world, but deserve to be read and wondered about.
          
          I am starting to collect those and keep them in my mind. It’s going to click. Characters will be broken down piece by piece for you. Relationships will build steadily.
          
          The process is long, but my outcome will be worth it. A stage of events mastered to my style to where I am at least 92% proud of it. Because, let’s be honest, an author will never be satisfied completely with their works. 

I love music that's familiar to me. I love deep, breathing, living music in a form without the perfect additions or the flawless notes. I love the raspy edges to low notes and the slight cracks and creases in a voice used and weary, but still running. I love keys playing up and down scales in a mellow tone that could never fail to fill a room. I love hearing and visually imagining the sound of someone alone in an arena with nothing but them and a piano or ukulele. I love hearing voices and instruments at their most vulnerable. It is shared. It is close. You feel like you're connecting yourself with the artist. My taste in music changes, but it always goes back to these voices; these beautiful artists who have stripped themselves of egotistical, extravagant things and have sculpted their music into a mastered art of simplicity and beauty. I love music that motivates me and makes me feel lonely in the best way. It isn't music to be shared except with maybe your closest friends. But there is an appreciation I have for it that they don't. I feel every emotion when I hear songs like these. Thank you, artists I love, for isolating me in a state of focus, peace, and rest. Here I can always come back to find myself.