Staring at an empty garden space in a yard, at the blinking cursor on a computer screen, or a musical instrument with a blank canvas, what’s next?
Walking down the street, I passed a guy smoking a cigarette. The smell filled my mind, hanging with me, and I thought of my dad, and how he would work while holding a cigarette in his mouth, squinting an eye to protect it from the smoke, puffing every now and then, while he taught me the how and why of a project. But it’s been twenty-five years, and I still miss him, and my eyes fill, and I run my tongue over my teeth. And then, just like waking from a dream, in a few minutes it diminishes.
Inspiration arises and falls in the same way.
“He entered the realm of art when he perceived the subtle use of the useless.” Okakura Kakuzo – The Book of Tea