16 days ago
115
13
Posted On: October 2nd 2026, 11:18 am
Journal entry 431
I’ve spent days with different women & their creative processes recently. Observing how a thread of inspiration moves through each of them completely different, though there are some parts the same. I’m noticing the moment of breakthrough into some form of altered state. Where the idea becomes form. Something tangible to manipulate. She begins sculpting it. Before she realises it’s actually shaping her first. Or really, it’s more of a co-creation. Simultaneously. A dance of intention, expression, refinement. A soft eb and flow. Sometimes it’s not soft. It kind of burns & she goes a little manic. I can see it in her eye and the way she’s no longer in the room with me. Somewhere else, but her mouth is moving & she’s speaking her visions into existence right in front of me. I’m in awe. Too many people in this world remain cynical about the unseen. They can’t see the way the threads of inspiration & dreaming somehow reach through time & space & begin working on us as the creators, the artists, the vessel of sorts.
Rearranging our insides so that we become a version of ourselves that can actually show up for the life, the dream, the idea we want to create. More than that, redesigning parts of our internal structure so that we move into more innocence with our creative process.
I think about them, while I wait for this brisket to cook.
My laptop sitting open with 3 half edited videos & old poetry I’m collating. It kind of wants to become a book. But it’s still a whisper right now. A tiny nudge that moves me along every few days. Not enough to really dive in, but enough to not forget.
A lot of my work feels like it’s patiently waiting. Giving me the space to figure out a new rhythm in life before I pick it all up again. I feel too changed. I feel so far from the woman who wrote poetry at 1am with a baby attached to her & no sleep. I forget poetry typically lives as a timestamp and a portal back into a place. Whether that be back into the past or forward into a dream.
I forget that my own vision and art is rearranging me right now too. Shaping me carefully for what is to come.
I’ve spent days with different women & their creative processes recently. Observing how a thread of inspiration moves through each of them completely different, though there are some parts the same. I’m noticing the moment of breakthrough into some form of altered state. Where the idea becomes form. Something tangible to manipulate. She begins sculpting it. Before she realises it’s actually shaping her first. Or really, it’s more of a co-creation. Simultaneously. A dance of intention, expression, refinement. A soft eb and flow. Sometimes it’s not soft. It kind of burns & she goes a little manic. I can see it in her eye and the way she’s no longer in the room with me. Somewhere else, but her mouth is moving & she’s speaking her visions into existence right in front of me. I’m in awe. Too many people in this world remain cynical about the unseen. They can’t see the way the threads of inspiration & dreaming somehow reach through time & space & begin working on us as the creators, the artists, the vessel of sorts.
Rearranging our insides so that we become a version of ourselves that can actually show up for the life, the dream, the idea we want to create. More than that, redesigning parts of our internal structure so that we move into more innocence with our creative process.
I think about them, while I wait for this brisket to cook.
My laptop sitting open with 3 half edited videos & old poetry I’m collating. It kind of wants to become a book. But it’s still a whisper right now. A tiny nudge that moves me along every few days. Not enough to really dive in, but enough to not forget.
A lot of my work feels like it’s patiently waiting. Giving me the space to figure out a new rhythm in life before I pick it all up again. I feel too changed. I feel so far from the woman who wrote poetry at 1am with a baby attached to her & no sleep. I forget poetry typically lives as a timestamp and a portal back into a place. Whether that be back into the past or forward into a dream.
I forget that my own vision and art is rearranging me right now too. Shaping me carefully for what is to come.
Comments (13)
15 days ago_born_wise
Looove this insight into the creative process/world. It never fails to fascinate me. The creative process/art/poetry/storytelling always feels like making the intangible tangible. You do that so well with words and imagery
16 days agowomb_mermaid
Love your process, courage + the way you're authentically paving the path for true expression of consciousness.
More posts
