quote:Originally posted by Thorn Davis: Yeah - I've done about 14,000 words over the last couple of weeks - more than I managed in whole of the rest of the year. I got fed up with feeling down about not getting jobs that I probably wouldn't have enjoyed anyway, and decided that if I was going to be investing time and energy in something before getting knocked back for it, it might as well be something I was genuinely enthusiastic about.
That's the most inspiring thing I've read on here in a long time.
All right-thinking people on here, surely, are supporters of Thorn and want to see him win out against the terrible odds ranged against him. That he's able to whip a sustained burst of energy from his jaded, weary frame is an inspiration to us all. Since being shamed/inspired by Thorn's words I've managed 300-500 words a day and managed to get myself into a good writing rhythm. It may not sound much (certainly not when contrasted with the Kerouacky feats of a Kovacs or a London) but it's quality stuff. Or that, at least, is what I keep telling myself.
Anyway!
What's inspired you, recently? Michael Jackson once sang about how we should start with 'the man in the mirror' - what gives you the momentum, energy or inspiration to 'make that change'?Posts: 8657
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posted
nothing inspires me! rejection in love and work has turned the little hope I did have to dust. i don't write anymore, not that I was ever any good, and don't even read these days. have no idea of what I wanna do with my life. at all. totally lost! a friend has invited me on travels and of course I said no, but today I got a fat cheque from the insurance company, and it is so tempting... but, no, what is the use of escape, I need a career, for the first time in my life I actually want to work, realistically I mean rather than fanciful, actually that is not true there were times when I loved doing work, but... this is I am 25 years old and life is sliding on by and what will I have when I'm 40? what will I be? i want kids, a wonderful wife that i love and loves me, a thoroughly bourgeois existence, sickeningly middle class. and it seems so very far out of reach, so unobtainable. on that other thread, about what your teenage self would think of you now, mine would be disappointed, mine would be where did the joy go? what happened to your spirit, man?. he'd then steal some coke, put on his pimp jacket, and go treat someone like shit. what a **** .
and you guys don't help. you all seem to have great careers! so much talent! so much intelligence! such bright futures! i feel wholly out of my depth sometimes. most of the time in fact. kovacs has a more interesting wanking history than me, fer chrissakes.
erm, yeah, i'll post this.
inspiration. that's a hard one. like i said, it has so far alluded me completely. and you fuckers don't help. i hate you all!
quote:Originally posted by ben: What's inspired you, recently? Michael Jackson once sang about how we should start with 'the man in the mirror' - what gives you the momentum, energy or inspiration to 'make that change'?
My ex-girlfriend called me up on Monday afternoon and I asked me to go for a drink. I told her that I didn't have any money but she offered to pay for my drinks. I was wary at first (we are complete opposites in fact. She likes shit female niche music and Nicole Farhi dresses) but thought nothing of it and went along anyway. It was cool at first as she chatted about her new term and the children she was now teaching. The conversation was light and airy until it reached 'The Interrogation'
All of a sudden, she dropped in 'yeah, but you're a bit arrogant really aren't you? and I was so shocked by it's delivery that I stopped talking and just went quiet. 'Whu..well....jesus, where did that come from?'
'Well you always have been'
'Fucking Hell'
'Sorry it's just, thats an attractive attribute, it was certainly something that made me like you when we were seeing each other'
'Well, maybe I am, I'd always seen it as over-confidence'
'No it's arrogance. You've always been like it'
I was sort of not sure how to take it. But before I could have time to reflect the conversation turned to lots of stories about the past, which all seemed to drive towards one direction. How great life is for her. How happy she is. How lovely her flat is and how lucky she is to have found it. I was about to stand up and walk out, but I just sat through it and humoured her. I felt roped into the 'How great is your life?debate, whereby the person who is happiest is deemed the winner in their head. I hate this game. It's played by the insecure when they want reassurance in life. The night was thankfully cut short by her boyfriend calling to see what had happened to her.
'I've just finished all my marking' she lied and the conversation seemed to shift to him asking if she was in a pub. It would have been nice for her to have confessed to simply trying to belittle her ex to make herself feel better.
I'm not paranoid about this. Because I said something that she agreed with in particular, she stamped me on the arm with her 'Good Effort' stamp that she saves for the kids who do well on tests and the like. I had to admire her for this. I enjoyed the humour immensely.
So, the motivation. I don't want anything like that really. A big house, super expensive clothes, a swanky partner. Fuck that. I just want to be able to see people after the longest time and be able to tell them that I am proud of myself and what I have achieved. I want this more than ever now. I am at a very productive stage in my life, but though they do not pay me, I am suspending my creativity while my other bandmate struggles with contracts and the like. But others mocking affectionate jeers at my failure certainly inspires.
As a side note, I was going to write about how I dreamt that a bomb went off in London and I woke up sweating and crying, gave me a fear of my own mortality and thus made me brick it loads, but I'll let that one go I think.
[ 06.10.2004, 08:48: Message edited by: New Way Of Decay ]
posted
Ok, this is going to sound really sucky, but I am inspired by ME at the moment - a la Michael Whiteboy Jackson.
For the first time in about 5 years I feel totally happy. And the reason for this is that I am happy with who I am and what my life consists of.
For as long as I can remember I have been trying to please other people and keep them happy. Now I am concentrating on me and my daughter and nobody else. If someone asks me to do something I don't particularly want to do, I finally have the strength to say NO! I don't want to do that, instead of saying yeah, sure - of course I'll help you out, which is what I would have done in the past, even if I didn't have the time or resources to do it without putting myself to major pains to complete whatever it was they wanted doing.
Everything is cool and I'm getting all those things done that I have been putting off for ages due to lack of interest.
Of course, it's cost me fucking shedloads of money in counselling sessions.
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posted
i can tell you what doesnt and that is smoking exessive amounts of cannabis every day for 10 years. If anyone has kicked a habit this bad or at least cut down to being a social smoker i would really relish some advice. The only person i know who recently made an effort to stop smoking told me to just smoke skunk pure every time you wanted to smoke (fags or a spliff). He did actually give up smoking all together for 6 months due to using this method, but personally i dont have that sort of cash, i am also none too fond of the idea of going into dealing to give up. Somebody help me please.
posted
I had a panic attack yesterday morning. Me. Panic attack. I don’t panic. Panic is for gays. Panic attacks are for gays with problems. But I woke up (after a horrible insomniac night and five minutes of sleep) and it wasn’t like waking up at all, it was like being trapped underwater. Like being in a swimming-pool with a glass lid. My heart balled into a fist and tried to punch its way out. I tried to breathe but nothing would come. Then fear came, like when I used to believe there was a wolf under the bed, or when I dream about the devil, but this time I was awake and it was a normal day and and I had to go to work but I couldn’t breathe or get out of the swimming pool and I knew I was going to fucking die. I didn’t know where I was or why I was there: whether I was in Spain, or back at my old house with Jake, or lying next to some other man: memory and identity had deserted me, replaced by terror. I know this is the kind of thing that most people post about or experience as a matter of course, this panic and emptiness, telegrams and anger, but I’ve never had it until now. I had a fucking panic attack! That’s the most inspiring thing that’s happened to me, because if something doesn’t change soon, if I don’t get out of this rut and this drone-like fucking existence where I work in a shitty office for four days a week and pretend to freelance on the other day but don’t even really do anything at all, let alone any fucking creative writing, merely scribing mechanically when commissioned – then I am going to fucking die.
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The recent assumption that I wouldn't defend insults to women (which I read essentially as being anti-feminist - loll, always inclined to melodrama) served both to utterly enrage me and to get me thinking about feminism in general, the state of women's role in current society and different future outcomes. Really thinking, at work, before I sleep at night, in my dreams, first thing in the morning. Coupled with a discussion about Max Hardcore/degradation of women/thread of misogyny running through much popular culture, it inspired me to sketch out a potential manuscript (I think the 'hooked' thread was also partially a kickstart). So now I have an idea for story, partially formed characters, future world view, plot and a fully fledged first chapter in my head, just waiting to be written down. Sadly, my only opportunity to write is at work (I don't trust my laptop at the moment) so my meisterwork my be quite some time in development. But I am positive and actually passionate about a text for the first time in a long while!
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quote:Originally posted by London: and it wasn’t like waking up at all, it was like being trapped underwater. Like being in a swimming-pool with a glass lid. My heart balled into a fist and tried to punch its way out. I tried to breathe but nothing would come.
You sure you were awake? Sounds like the Black Crone to me.
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posted
*applies band-aid and yellow magic to Saltrock.* What is black crone? My wife said something similar. Is it a folklore thing?
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posted
Weirdly, I find myself being inspired by the people I'm working with at the moment. This is a highly unusual situation. They are, generally, creative, conscientious, and intelligent, and I find myself wanting to be like them.
It's something of a double-ender though. In my last few jobs, I've felt as though I've been working with duplicitous, untalented, jobsworth dullards, making me feel like a creative bright spark, and the only one who can DO THINGS PROPERLY. Now, of course, I feel like a lumpen prole, flailing around in the murk, being given work to keep me happy until they can decently sideline me out the door.
posted
Doh! The Black Crone. The feeling of someone sitting on your chest when you are in that half-awake state and rendering you incapable of speech or movement.
I'm sure we've been through all this before?
The Doh! and stuff was before I saw London's reply and was aimed at punchy old NWoD there.
posted
I had a dream about you the other night, London. We were just drinking in a bar and it was really pleasant. You'd dyed your hair blonde - I'm not sure how this would suit you in real life, but you certainly looked good in the dream.
Later I dreamed I was shacked up in a hotel in some poor African country with the England football team. Surprisingly, they were a very personable bunch of guys. Especially Beckham. The game they were there for kept getting cancelled so we just spent the entire time mooching around the deserted hotel bar, playing cards and the like. The atmosphere was very Graham Greene.
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quote:Originally posted by philomel: The recent assumption that I wouldn't defend insults to women (which I read essentially as being anti-feminist - loll, always inclined to melodrama) served both to utterly enrage me and to get me thinking about feminism in general, the state of women's role in current society and different future outcomes. Really thinking, at work, before I sleep at night, in my dreams, first thing in the morning. Coupled with a discussion about Max Hardcore/degradation of women/thread of misogyny running through much popular culture, it inspired me to sketch out a potential manuscript (I think the 'hooked' thread was also partially a kickstart). So now I have an idea for story, partially formed characters, future world view, plot and a fully fledged first chapter in my head, just waiting to be written down. Sadly, my only opportunity to write is at work (I don't trust my laptop at the moment) so my meisterwork my be quite some time in development. But I am positive and actually passionate about a text for the first time in a long while!
quote:Originally posted by saltrock: Punches McEnwood
O. Mine was jape related to when I lolled becaused you asked if Miffy was very fluffy. I lolled because she is fairly fluffy for a girl who likes kung fu and climbing trees. London said 'don't laugh at saltrock' and cyberpunched me. There was no band-aid and yellow magic from you when this happened.
[ 06.10.2004, 09:09: Message edited by: New Way Of Decay ]
posted
When I have finished my exams (Oct 18) I will have time to be inspired. If I can be arsed.
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quote:Originally posted by funkypurplepants: i can tell you what doesnt and that is smoking exessive amounts of cannabis every day for 10 years.
Sadly, I've only smoked excessive amounts (is two joints excessive) of cannabis every day for one year. Personally, I find it does fill me with inspiraration, but the other side of the coin is the lack of motivation, which often means that the inspiration dies off before I can do anything with it. I've thrown myself into my band to try and compensate, and it seems to be working. Not that I intend to give up though...
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A delightful definition of 'inspiration', from dictionary.com, "arousal of the mind to special unusual activity or creativity".
Arousal of the mind is precisely what I feel, a very similar feeling to sexual arousal, and they both involve a large amount of fantasy. I feel it, for example, when I watch television programmes about people setting off for a new life in another country. That has always inspired me, since I was a child. My favourite stories are of lives changed, whether it be a temporary exploration like Orwell's Down And Out, or a fellow running away to join the Foreign Legion, or My Family And Other Animals exploring Greek Islands. Ray Mears, of course. He sends me deep into fantasy, and also nostalgia for time spent playing in the woods, digging in the dirt, climbing in the trees and swimming in the river.
We almost always go on holiday to bleak and windswept places, but inspiring too.
I hope my children remember these places and I want to take them on some serious treks as they get a bit older, camping too, the whole works. Because that's what we did when I was younger and it's always inspired me, even when I just see it on the telly.
But the arousal of the mind is of little use if you do nothing with it except to wander off into fantasyland. Inspiration comes easy, from music and smells and sights and sounds, but discipline and self-motivation remain elusive and I've often longed for a drug which would provide that instead of just more surplus dreams. Some sort of barbiturate might work I suppose, but they do tend to be frowned upon by polite society.
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quote:Originally posted by MiscellaneousFiles: Sadly, I've only smoked excessive amounts (is two joints excessive) of cannabis every day for one year. Personally, I find it does fill me with inspiraration, but the other side of the coin is the lack of motivation, which often means that the inspiration dies off before I can do anything with it. I've thrown myself into my band to try and compensate, and it seems to be working. Not that I intend to give up though...
the 2 zoots i would class as social, though it is more regular than your average social weekender. I wish i had a band to concentrate on, but then when i get too stoned i get frustrated because i cant even be bothered to try and keep to the beat, not a great plan for a bassist. the lack of motivation thing is a big issue for me as well cos it depresses me how little i go out, considering i live in london and have all my life, by rights i should always have something to do, or so im told by freinds of mine from elswhere.
sad bastard in need of money and good times where are u when i need u vp
1) Metal I was listening to Machine Head's bone crunching first album Burn My Eyes, and Slipknot's lovely second release Iowa on the way to work today, but really it could have been any one of many, many noisy, uncompromising records that seem to channel the frustration of grinding your way through jobs you hate for no reward, while nurturing an artistic vision that may never be realised, into an explosive and exhilirating piece of work. It's defiant and aggressive and I just can't get enough of songs that feel like howling into the wind. It's just the thing for picking yourself up and dusting yourself down and getting back in the ring.
2) Ed Wood I love this movie, but I won't watch it often. I always feel like saving it for special occasions - like watching it with someone new, or when things are particularly dire. The greatest thing about it, it that's it's about someone who's so passionate about what they want to do, and so kind and adaptable and upbeat and energetic that it ceases to matter that they don't have any talent. I really like that idea. Too many of these films have genuinely talented people struggling to get recognition (eg 8 Mile). What i find inspiring about Ed Wood is that it suggests - just keep trying: it doesn't matter if you're rubbish. I find that message a bit easier to relate to.
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most appreciative of the pic dang it reminds me, much as your post did, that i am gonna have to get out of london and spend some time in the open air and remember what a natural horizon looks like. i think this works in a similar way to seasonal affective disorder, ones world becomes smaller as the thing furthest away from you is the building at the end of the street. A lack of distance becomes opressive, much like a lack of light does after a time, am i rambling shit or can anyone agree?
quote:Originally posted by funkypurplepants: sunshine i think is one of my greatest inspirations, call me a dodgy tree hugging hippy, and you would be spot on.
I could think of a few more things to call you that would be spot on.
scrawny
One Mojito, two Gin and Tonics, Three Bacardi Lime Sodas, and a couple of pints of Stella please.
posted
Currently I am inspired by the idea of ESCAPE.
In a bizarre twist of fate that would astonish Miss Wheat, my evil primary school headmistress who predicted I'd never amount to anything, I have been headhunted! Oh yes. A crazy yet massively well respected composer who I met through work is opening another offshoot of his business with a load of young writers and composers who he is going to help out, and he would like me to be the manager of it all. Hurrah! This is inspiring because it means I am employable and not dispensable as my current company is fond of implying when I dare to ask for things like time off and pay rises. It is also inspiring because it means more money, more freedom and the chance to be involved in something new and exciting from the very beginning. And it means working with scruffy, arty creative types and not fucking David Brentulike behind me.
I think the thing that's really great about it is timing. I am currently a bit bored, though enjoying 'writing' for a living (punctuation necessary - there's only so long that searching for ways to make the advertising business sound more interesting than it is can be called writing), and very much liking the social scene that goes with it. But I've just finished an interview with some massively top creative people, and they all agreed on one thing - nobody ever got anywhere by staying where they are. And I don't want to write about advertising for the rest of my life. Definitely not inspiring.
So what do I do - stay in the safe, underpaid but quite fun job of today? Or gamble?
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Louche
Carved TMO on her clit just to make you feel bad
posted
I am uninspired. But I think it's rather difficult to be inspired about anything when there's toothache in the equation. I keep tongueing the offending half-tooth. I can feel it, dead husk, lurking in the back of my mouth. In fact, my tongue is scarred with tiny intense pain slashes from running over the sparked shards of my tooth. I ate a banana earlier, and, concentrating elsewehere, or perhaps just overwhelmed by today's drama of Girl Faints In Office, I chomped to the left. Mistake. The afternoon has been characterised by a lowlevel throbbing, centred in my jaw, but slowly, in delicately felt concertinas, migrating from the point of pain across my face, up under my hairline, across my scalp.
I'm thinking of using the dead yet pain spiking tooth as the next in my long line of pathetic and unjustifiable excuses for doing bugger all.
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