Synapses

Quiet……quiet……

Listen.

Feel.

See how universes of creativity aren’t birthed all at once, with a let-there-be-light proclamation? See, slowly, how the human mind re-forms synpases? See how they spark intermittently across the black, appearing, blazing with life, and vanishing in the next instant?

If you rush, they will scatter. If you speak or put a pen to paper, they will hide.

Breathe, and watch them, and be quiet.

Original creativity is birthed in a thousand quiet moments of inspiration. Little objects and ideas: a backstory for an existing character; the light on a pane of glass fixed inside a ticketing booth. Potential names for new, otherworldly cocktails.

I could identify more of them, but instead I breathe, and relish the feeling of light sparking in the blackness—the reality I knew was possible but hadn’t glimpsed in months, in years, maybe…

So I silently watch them pass, not grasping for them but notating them all the same.

And I am quiet.

And it is enough that my creative mind is not just a graveyard.