The creative process, the one inside your head, takes a toll on everything else. Much like dreams, no one can say how or why thoughts form in such a way when your mind wanders. And even more rare is the compulsion to take ideas like those and form them in reality. These days I value the end product more than the conception. 
For me, allowing the idea to ferment into a better story takes more time. I’ve been writing little ideas and as the brain goes into some kind of trance-like state during boredom or perhaps working on something less fulfilling, divine inspiration occurs. The cross pollination of practical locations, camera angles, dialogue, or even reimagining of scenarios can all occur. The goal is to catch them like fireflies in a jar by writing them down.
This is a new year. I need to get back to work. By work, I mean making narrative stories that mean something to me. I have accumulated some new skills, some new perspectives, and the time has come to put it all into stories that matter, stories that reverberate personally.
One new idea that percolates has almost finished in my head. It might be controversial, at least locally, but I have to follow my heart. First, I need to finish some things on the plate. I may not complete everything I set out to do (settle down, Obsessive-Compulsive tendencies!), and yet I cannot let it all go.
“And how do I choose and where do I draw the line
Between truth and necessary pain?”
– Eric Clapton
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