Finding That Motivation

“As little as you want to write when you’re happy, that’s now much you have to write when you’re miserable. Your passions need to go somewhere, and this is the only place left. Your suffering has to be good for something. It’s not for me to say if the words were worth the price.” – Brian Bloom, 5 To 7

Hello, WordPress. It’s been awhile.

In my absence, plagued with writers block and the whirl wind of life changes I happened to drop myself into, I’ve been thinking a lot about motivation. The driving force of every action, every person. Nothing is truly empty, and there’s always a back story. As I find myself meeting new people, I have one desire; find their motivation. It’s a habit of mine to wonder what goes on behind people’s eyes. I love to discover what they’re thinking and what propels them forward. In my situation of meeting new people, I found myself forced to answer my own questions about motivation.

How much of my writing is driven by positive emotions? Not much. You could spend hours sifting through blog posts and only find a handful of pieces from the joy in my life. My writing is mostly motivated by all the negativity in my life. Ranting about the stupidity of the world we live in, reflecting on the ways my life has gone, and disguising moments in poetry chalk full of imagery. It was at the point everything in my life began to go beautifully that I stepped back from writing. I had no words to share, because everything is and was perfect.

So this is my problem. Why am I motivated by negativity when my life and personality is so positive? Am I abnormal in the world of writing? Could I call this a simple therapeutic method? And if these things are normal, why is it so? Why do we as writers feel this way?

My greatest motivation in life is passion. I’ve always felt things so deeply. Simple instances affect me in such a way they usually end up somewhere in my works. This is why I write. They have to come out somehow. The thing is, how do I bridge the gap between my passion, and the negativity in my writing? How do I change my motivation to better my mental and emotion health?

From another perspective on motivation, my writing has always suffered under the influence of books. Literature makes me doubt my style and fluency. I can’t read books while I’m writing, one, because it’s hard to focus on both, and two, because I constantly compare the work of published authors to my own amateur pieces. Instead, I turn to film. Very few TV shows have touched me as much as my favorite movies, but The Office has stood out among the hundreds I’ve scrutinized. The style and lessons so carefully slipped in between the humor have kept me coming back for more, even though I’ve finished the series 4 times now and can quote a good portion of the dialogue. As far as movies go, I have an extensive library I call my “favorites”, but really only 2 help me as a writer. It began with Like Crazy, a little known independent romance with an interesting style. I fell in love with the character, the writing, the style, and the story. Everything was perfect and everything spoke to me. Then came 5 To 7, which opened doors for me in my views of the world and romance, as well as validated my feelings as a writer. I can’t convey how much I identify with Brian Bloom, who is played by Anton Yelchin (also male lead in Like Crazy, big coincidence.) Yelchin is a great actor by the way. Very unappreciated. But yes, these movies are very inspirational to me, even now that I’ve seen them multiple times. They keep me going like nothing else.

At the end of every story, every blog piece, every poem, there is a heavy heart. Writing, at least to me, isn’t about simply putting words on paper. It’s putting your heart and soul on a page. It’s letting go. It’s opening up. It’s giving away. At the end, no matter the mood of the piece, I’m left vulnerable. And I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.


p.s. I realize this is extremely choppy and doesn’t flow well. I’m lucky to even get something out at this point. No judgement.

When My Mind is Miles From My Finger Tips

11:16 pm. I’m willing to write anything and everything other than the writing assignment I’m to turn in tomorrow. You’d think as a communication studies major this would be cake….sadly, in a very uncharacteristic move, I’ve pushed this assignment off until mere hours before it’s due. We’ve all been there right? Ok, good. Well, right now I’m dreaming of my favorite places in the world.

The Ocean brings me peace like no other. It’s 3 hours to the coast from my hometown, which is nothing in Texas Time. I’ve driven farther and longer, but somehow I’m not able to cope with this drive. We’ll start seeing palm tree about 2 hours in and suddenly I’m clutching the edges of my seat in anticipation, rolling down the windows to catch a breeze. Don’t even get me started on actually driving in Corpus. It’s so close! Why are we still in the car, yall??? The summer before my first year of college, I went with my three best friends and my lovely boyfriend for a day trip. We finally made it to Mustang Island, and one of my best friends wasn’t happy with the beach, so she made us find another one. The only thing I wanted was to stand before that massive expanse of water and feel small as the water rushed over my feet. About an hour later I got my wish. As irritated with her as I was, it only took a few minutes of sea-therapy to return me to my absolute state of bliss. With my love by my side we explored the shallow waters, even daring to venture out to the first few sand bars. Floating along with the sea weed and white waves feels like home. I will miss it when college is over.

Have you ever found yourself in a valley surrounded on all sides by towering mountains? Did they still have snow? Did you feel close to the sky? Have you stood on those mountains and felt such pride over the land before you? These visions are such treasures to me. Wyoming was a treasure. I don’t even mind driving through the mountain passes….scratch that…I don’t mind driving through the mountain passes as long as my mother is not there too scream and cry. Oh, but it was so worth it to come out of the pass and take in the land Jackson sits on! It was so flat! I could pretty much see from one side of the valley to the other. And the sky was so blue! Is that an altitude thing? I thought the Texas skies were massive and glorious…but a mountain sky definitely takes the cake. It’s spectacular. And the stars at night. The sounds of wilderness. The animals. Where I come from, we’re lucky to get snow during the winter, much less in the middle of summer, but it was there. It even snowed in the mountains while we were visiting the lower parts of Yellowstone. Had we chosen that day to ride the tram up the mountain by our cabin, we would have witnessed snow in summer! What a thought!

The Hill-Country just doesn’t wow me now that I live in the Piney Woods of Texas. I used to enjoy our occasional drives into the hills to visit our family cabin, and I still do, but it’s more pleasurable when the lands sport their annual wild flowers. Then the rolling hills of color rival my beautiful pine tree forests. I don’t know why I find them so attractive, I just do. I love the way they dance in the wind and tower over the city. They sway like I do when I’m in a dance-y mood. It’s a rare day that I won’t have some sort of piney-woods-sunset picture on my snapchat story. I get so caught up in the beauty of the moment and I just want to share it with the world! Even though the woods are my least favorite natural point, they still hold a special place in my heart. Even when I leave this area, I will return often to enjoy the green figures and the sun light shining through their leaves.

I sit and dream and long for and remember such special moments. It’s so much better than writing abstracts about critical essays over modernism. I just have to take deep breaths and remember that this is only a pre-req for the class I do want to take….and it doesn’t hurt that this is only worth a third of an essay grade, but dwelling on that only makes me not want to write it. I just want somebody to teach me how to be a better writer!

11:51 pm. I don’t care how modernism affected Chinese literature, but here I go to write the damn abstracts. Ocean. Mountains. Piney Woods. Ocean. Mountains. Piney Woods.

Random Thoughts From the Newbie

It’s been about 4 months since I started this endeavor. At first I was so overwhelmed…how could I possibly surround myself with such accomplished writers and not be a joke? I remind myself every time the voice in my head starts nagging that I’m extremely new, and these people have been here forever.

I thought this might be a short-lived passion, like my summer playing the piano a few years ago. But it grew! I started writing multiple times a week, started a challenge, followed, commented, talked and talked and talked. I get so excited when I have a notification. Somebody actually thought my writing was worth their time! and then. I get a follow.  They want to see more?? What??

I check my blog every day. I check it when I get to work, in between scanning documents and making copies, during lunch, when I get home, and before bed. and I read. I read so much! I search topics, I search people, I explore the blogs I’ve already followed, I dig as much as I can. I love to see different lives around the world and hear about fun experiences! Everything to learn and grow. I watch the number of views rise, and monitor which posts receive more attention. Do people like my ranting? Do they gravitate towards the happy stories? Should I stick jokes in a post? How did that picture work? It’s interesting to experiment! I sit in my glowing, appreciative bubble and wonder what will become of my blog in a year. I already plan on upgrading to my own website, but there are so many opportunities and variables that will come with it! Will I have 100 views? Will it stay the same? Will I look back on this beginning and laugh at how happy 6 visits to my page made me?

It’s human nature to want acceptance, but this blog has helped me get past my need for it. Some say they don’t like what I write, and I laugh and tell them that’s fine. They don’t have to read it! My summer has been full of positivity and I think, among other things, it’s due to my blog. It’s my strongest creative outlet. One that doesn’t take so much clean up and possibly kill my fish like my painting does. (I prefer the atmosphere of my bedroom to paint…but with oils, I will need to move into the garage next time…it might be too late for Bubbles, though) Writing has always come naturally to me. I don’t have to stress about getting flowers just right or whether my words will be perceived as a whale or a rocket. They are what they are. Most importantly, they are what I say they are. I think that’s why I love blogging so much…it’s my corner of the internet to say and show whatever i want. My opinions and stories are all valid and will be seen. They don’t have to be agreed with, and some stories will make some readers upset, but it’s still mine. Mine to control, mine to play with, mine to grow.

So this is my thank you to all who have followed this journey. 4 months in, a million to go! I’m eager to see where this path will lead me, and how far I will travel. 🙂 Happy Thursday, World!

Thoughts From the Average Writer

30 Topic Challenge: 12- Something you’re proud of

Writing is like exploring a maze in my mind. I just follow the words and strings of thought until I hit a wall, and then I pick up and continue on again. It’s like freestyle rapping, except on paper. I’ve always loved the joy I feel when I get in the groove and my fingers are flying. Sentence after sentence after sentence. If you’re a veteran reader, you’ve already read about my obsession with blank paper. (haven’t seen that yet? Here.) It’s always been there, and I’ve never shied away from writing down thoughts. I love filling the stark white with words and doodles.

In middle school I would carry extra notebooks in my backpack to write down stories. At one point I bought a tiny composition book to write down those burning thoughts and ideas, because JK Rowling did the same thing. I’m pretty sure every writer does that, but I’ve always looked up to her (obviously)! My writing was mediocre, but held promise. I look back at it fondly, as one should with their art. Never regret what you make, because it’s never wrong.

It wasn’t until I met my significant other that I really took off. Something about our different artist minds left such a mark on the other. We really connected through the words we would put out. He shook my creativity to its core and turned it upside down. I think that’s one of my favorite things about us; we have a language as artists. We completely understand and accept each other. He’s inspired me from the very beginning to explore every corner of my creativity.

I’ve always battled with it, because the ideas are fleeting. When I thought of something that could be expanded it would bother me until I finally wrote it down and thought it out. I’ve never been able to sit at my computer and call something forward. They just occur, in the shower, while I’m driving, while I’m working…but never on demand. I can’t ever just stop and start a piece, either. I’ll write something down, get a few paragraphs in, then come back to it later with much less exhilaration that I had before. The vibrancy fades. But that feeling after I’ve gotten a piece out and I can finally breathe….it’s like coming up for air after swimming for a long time. The tunnel vision goes away and I can appreciate what I’ve done.

I’m proud of how far I’ve come. I may not be the best, but I very much enjoy what I do. It’s not easy. A lot of the time it’s the most frustrating experience. But to me, there is no greater joy or pride.

Next week: A problem you have! This should be interesting.