Reading the Latte

People draw inspiration from many places. Some are even ordinary, everyday items. Take, for instance, the morning coffee many of us drink each day.

Coffee is a passion for me, and the day’s first cup is always a simple latte. I make it myself, keeping the milk added to a minimum as I don’t like diluting the espresso too much. It’s just enough to make some latte art if I feel so inclined.

So, why do I tell you all that? Why would you care? I know it’s boring as hell. Well, it’s because it created a train of thought that connected to much bigger things in life. This lowly, common cup of coffee was telling me something.

No, I didn’t hear voices. Allow me to explain. Over the years, latte has become a passion. Not necessarily the art, but the aroma and taste. But after a while, I realized the art I made was a snapshot of my mind’s state on that particular morning. Latte art is difficult, and I am not very good at it. If I pay attention and apply myself, I can make something okay, even on days when I feel off.

Centered, okay day.

Sometimes, I wonder if the steamed milk patterns would be readable by elderly gypsies, revealing my future. You know the ones, the wise old women that read tea leaves. Why not milk patterns in a latte? Yeah, it’s a weird thought, I tell myself. But then another idea hits me.

Does my writing vary like the latte art? Each day, does my focus and style change? It’s a fair question, but I hate it. Because it means my writing quality varies day to day. However, the battle to write somedays may not always be “writer’s block.” It’s simply the human struggle we all endure.

Even on off days, if I apply myself, my latte art is better than it should be. The reverse is true, too. If my mind wanders, the final appearance is less than it ought to be. The same is true with almost everything. It’s just the way we humans function. On the days we feel off, we need to push through it, deal with it, and be the person we want and need to be.

Off-center, muddled!

Writing takes focus and care, just like latte art, every day. I guess that’s true for many things in life like love and relationships, too.

Now, every morning as I sit at my desk, I take it as a reminder to concentrate and apply myself with the first cup of coffee in front of me. Even if I feel off. Of course, deep down, I have known this even as a child. You know, stop and smell the roses, appreciate all the beauty around us and take it in. All that stuff, and try to be a good, caring person every day. But it was buried down deep and mixed in with all the other things.

However, the lesson in my espresso drink forces me to confront the issue daily. Not just to be a better writer, but to be a better person. For a simple, everyday item, even a cup of coffee can become an essential part of who we are.

Thanks if you made it this far. I’ll finish by wondering if finding inspiration in small things like coffee is normal. I sure hope so. But if not, at least I haven’t tried to find a gypsy to read the milk swirls – yet. In the meantime, let me know if you have had any similar experiences. I would love to hear about it.

Groundhog Day, Again

please stay with me . There is a reason to write this, I promise, and this blog entry is not overly long. If you’re a writer, I hope you appreciate my sharing some inner most thoughts. So, with trepidation here goes…

A recurring, nagging weariness hounds me. I am stuck. Words allude me so I drift off to the dreaded diversions. Cleaning, online shopping, cooking, and the worst of all – television.

Still, I have deadlines. So, I return to the keyboard and force myself to write. But that builds some sort of crazy tension inside my brain. It hates when I force it.

Then the eyes start to burn and the fingers ache. My temples throb. None of that matters and I attempt to ignore it. But I relent and finally acknowledge I am too tired to write. Time for sleep.

Morning brings a renewed me, ready to write my next blockbuster novel or screenplay. But first, time to write for my precious clients. So, I return to the worn keyboard and finish their article, blog, web page, screenplay, novel, or whatever was unfinished the day before.

Over the course of the day, I manage to complete some of their pieces but there are new jobs to start. Then, with me unaware, the light outside is no more. The fatigue returns. Sentences that were flowing like a gorged river trickle down till they are but a dry stream. Once again, my brain locks, my stomach rumbles, and my eyes droop.

Personal works in progress go untouched another day. The laundry piles remain too tall. But I return to the keyboard the next morning to do it all again, fully aware. This is my own self-imposed version of Groundhog Day. You know, that Bill Murray movie where he lives the same day over and over.

So, why do it? The answer is simple. Writing is a passion. It is what I love to do. If only my body wasn’t so weak. Imagine what I could do if fatigue didn’t happen after a mere 12 or 14 hours of writing. I would…be inhuman and lack the ability to write like one.

I guess all artist’s struggle with it. Ideas and concepts bubble up by the hundreds, but writing it on the page, carving it out of stone, or painting it on a canvas takes time. And our minds and bodies can only do so much in a day. If I could have any superpower, I would chose to have complete immunity to fatigue. It’s pathetic, I know, but it’s what I would choose.

Until I obtain that awesome superpower, I must live with my humanity. And unlike Bill Murray, I chose to relive each day as a writer. It is what I want, no, need to do. I write because I love it. Drafting the perfect line of dialogue or creating a character you want to meet; there is nothing like it.

I have this possibly delusional thought that helps me deal with the writer’s grind. I imagine and hope I’m not alone, that there are thousands of other writers like me out there. Somehow in my mind, that makes the world a better place. No, I don’t want others to suffer the doldrums. But thousands of people who see the world a little different, all creating art, and exploring every story line possible, means I am neither alone nor crazy.

I guess that’s why I wrote this blog piece. Loneliness and fatigue are often part of the deal for writers. And this all may sound like venting or complaining. But it’s not. It is respect and praise for all the great writers out there.

The daily struggle, the repeating Groundhog Day, is the last thing I want for other writers. But somehow, I know my life is not unique.

So, finally we get to the reason for this blog entry. It is a sobering thought for me. But to be the only one who labors at times would mean I am flawed and foolish to continue. It would mean I should stop writing, but I could never do that.

To all those writers working hard day after day, please keep doing so and let me know how you are doing. The world needs you; I need you. Yes, that’s a bit dramatic. But, tired and alone, I am proud to be part of something special.

Thanks for reading the entire piece and thank to all my clients that have kept me employed over the 10 last years.

Welcome to My Blog

Blogging is not my thing. It means sharing feelings and thoughts, which I have never been accused of doing well. There is so much to write already, so many characters to create and stories to tell. So blogging has always fallen off my radar.

But I have relented. Blogs are part of being a writer, so I finally started one. I almost used the George R. R. Martin title of Not a Blog, since I know my posts will likely be too few to qualify. Nevertheless, I hope to post something that tickles your fancy or makes you think a little. Welcome and thanks for visiting.