Procrastination as inspiration

Posted on November 5, 2011

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Sometimes when writing, the words just do not want to come. I refuse to concede it as being writer’s block but rather that it is just my aging brain being lazy.

On those occasions, and this is one of them, I find it can help to just switch track and start writing something else – anything. So I decided to write this blog post. Sure, it is a form of procrastination yet it can help get those sluggish brain cells to start firing thus is a form of inspiration – sort of.

It is an absolutely glorious day, brilliant sunshine, the warmest day of spring so far here in Canberra. I have the workshop room of the ACT Writers Centre to myself. Outside, the Gorman House Markets are in full swing. Now when I say full swing, I should note that it is one of those days that just make people drowsy and a number of the stall holders are displaying just that.

Deciding to halt for lunch a short while ago, I headed over to where the main food stalls are. Being such a warm day, I decided to forgo my usual papusa – a cornmeal pancake stuffed with cheese and beans, smothered in a delicious hot chilli sauce – and went for an Italian crepe stuffed with spinach and fetta, with a squirt of lemon juice across the top. These are also very tasty although it amuses me a little that I now willingly eat something with spinach in it whereas as a kid, getting me to eat it was no small feat. But at that corner of Gorman House is the Embroiderer’s Guild who had a craft sale on in their rooms. So I just had to poke my nose in there. Before I knew it, I was having a conversation about cross stitch (something I do to occupy my hands of an evening and keep me from going insane – the cross stitch that is, not the conversations). And now I think I have gone and committed myself to joining them of a Monday evening to sit and stitch with them.

Coffee from my preferred vendor was lovely as always and he even slipped a bit extra coffee in for nothing to help fire me up.

The other attraction is a secondhand bookstall. I should be banned from them as I have more books coming in than I can cope with anyway. Fortunately for the sake of my bookshelves, I flipped through his collection of secondhand CDs instead and came away with a full version of Mozart’s The Magic Flute for only eight bucks. I have only ever had excerpts of that before. This lovely opera is now issuing from the very tinny speakers of my laptop.

Now this procrastinationesque activity seems to have worked of a sort. Words are starting to flow a little more easily now. Time to close this blog down and return to the other, real writing.

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