The Creative Spirit

Yesterday I was able to sleep in until such time as I felt 100% ready to get up. First time in many days. Weeks?

I then went for a run and wrapped up with a meditation on the park bench I favor. When the time was right, I asked to be "imbued with the creative spirit", as I was going to write that day. Moments later, I received the notion that I should revisit Alan Moore's interview, titled "The Craft".

Returning home, I grabbed the article and started reading. I probably got about six pages in before I felt compelled to pour into "Sinbad". It was like jet fuel. Not in terms of speed - though much did come quickly. It was just dynamic. I had to write a scene of mourning between Sinbad and Aladdin, bemoaning the death of Badoura and their failure to stop the Caliph. I knew the scene could be a huge piece of shit if handled poorly. I needed something fresh and original and - above all - honest. Reminding myself that no one else would ever read this first draft - and therefore I could do ANYTHING - I proceeded to conduct a writing exercise in the middle of the script. I had the characters speak as if they were aware they were indeed characters under someone else's control. Puppets. Eventually, this conversation turned to Aladdin discussing his lack of faith and Sinbad recounting the death of his father and his vision of death itself as a black shadow. Really powerful stuff. And straight from the heart.

I took a break after that. When I returned, I needed to write the scene wherein the priestess resurrects Badoura. I hadn't given myself much to work with in my outline/synopsis; it simply said something about a rite or somesuch. I had no idea. I grabbed bits and pieces from wikipedia entries on shamanism and smudge sticks. I didn't want it to turn into grass skirts and jumping around, a la "King Kong". I followed my instincts - and it wound up getting a bit sexy, a bit risque - something that would no doubt be altered, were a PG feature film made. Then, in a hard right turn, the sexiness gave way to an horrific action involving fire, a small stick, and an eyeball! I freaked out everyone! Future audiences, readers, the characters, and me. So, I must have done something right there. And, the best part - it all made sense! The fire - djinn's are made of "smokeless fire". The priestess was basically reigniting her soul.

Anyway, enough back-patting. It was simply a great day, resulting from an awesome beginning.