The Process...
I’m spaced out in the car. I’m sitting in front of the coffee table, hands on my chin staring into nothingness. I am in the middle of a workout mumbling to myself. I randomly chuckle while I am in the shower. I take the long way home or circle the block one or five more times. “Babe, what’s wrong?” my wife asks. Every time, I tell her nothing is wrong, I’m just thinking. When she (inevitably) asks “about what?” I can only shift my eyes and shake my head. She is beginning to get it. This is my creative process. By the time I put my fingers to the keyboard, my map is already drawn and my hands are already driven to what must be done. I have thought it through, I have planned where I want to go and how I will get there. My mind is an EVER active place. While this usually manifests itself in a cavalcade of memes on my FB timeline or in a weird dance of nervous energy that manifests in me doing, fixing or cleaning something in the house (we will talk