I haven’t been thinking much about writing since the weekend.
My brain needed a rest after the glut of assignments and the forced output demanded by last week’s deadline. Already the guilt has kicked in, despite my occupation with other projects that got shunted down the priority list because of last week’s blitz.
But, my creative stewpot is never really off the stove. It bubbles on the back burner, a handy wooden spoon close by when it needs the occasional stir. Every now and again I toss in a couple of spuds, a selection of veg, a handful of spices, and perhaps some legumes. I make sure it never dries out, and when I spoon out a dish I try not to rob the pot of everything.
Though that would be damn hard. The crock is like Dagda’s Cauldron – it never empties. So far (superstitiously crosses fingers; can’t type, so uncrosses them).
You have to feed the pot constantly, that’s the trick. Be it through observation, reading, watching TV, listening to the radio, or surfing the web.
You add the raw ingredients, and let them stew together. After a while it gains a certain flavour and consistency, and requires some active participation on the part of the chef.
Now it’s time for me to tie on my apron – and let’s leave this cooking metaphor before it curdles!