By now you might have some understanding as to what it means for me to derive inspiration through tangential thought. Hopefully from a previous blogpost where I mentioned connecting seemingly random thoughts and ideas. Whether or not you understand, I still want to use this blogpost to illustrate more of what I mean.
Last year while starting the rough draft for KiLL.e.D., there was a serious doubt growing within me. I’m sure everyone has faced doubt at some point in their lives, so I tried to accept it and move on. I even considered it a normal part of the process and went on writing when I could. Besides a serious drop off in productivity here or there, everything was coming along.
It was only until I began writing the fifth chapter, I couldn’t bring myself to write anymore. It wasn’t simply writer’s block, it was an active avoidance. At that point in time, that first page on chapter five became nothing more than a jumping board into random YouTube videos, books, binge watching shows, or studying artwork. Everything else stole my attention and took precedence over writing.
Then, the worst of it came. I simply wanted to give up. There’s no other way to explain it. I was damn near convinced to scrap it all. What’s the point of writing? It’s too much. You’re not good enough? It’s all terrible, you should never consider yourself a writer? No one is going to think it’s good. No one would care, no one would read it, why write it?
Similar thoughts would come and go every time, and start this weird feedback loop. I wanted to write so, I’d open the page. I’d only stare at the page, and think. After trying to think of what to write, bad thoughts came. It’d only be right to do something to make myself feel better, I could just watch some random video for a few minutes. After hours, or days spent under the spell of craving another distraction, I’d come to, and force myself to write more. Then it’d start all over again. In that loop, I spiraled. Until, during one of those distraction dives I found something. A painting.
One, I will never forget.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Shadow of His Former Self by Kerry James Marshall
Its intentionally haunting design, whether it’s the eyes, smile or the coloring (more specifically the shading of black) all creates a soul-piercing painting. Well, for me at least. It’s easily one of my favorite paintings, and will likely never change. I have no problems sharing praise for Kerry James Marshall and his masterful work.
But after maybe my third time absorbing everything I could from the artwork, something was different. I wasn’t just witnessing the artwork, there was an impetus, and it moved me. My fingers had their own minds and their own wills, I found myself writing again. I wrote a poem, that’s it. Would you believe that ever since then, there hasn’t been any doubt.
I’m no poet, and will never claim to be, but it was the flow of words that came to me through the inspiration of Kerry James Marshall’s artwork that gave me what I needed. A swift kick in the ass, and fuel for the fire. It’s one of the artworks I would like to credit for assistance in the completion of the KiLL.e.D. manuscript. The simple poem didn’t show me I was some awesome writer, or even that I was proficient in any way, form, or metric. It only showed me that I was capable.
This is that poem.