ONE of these days I’ll figure out how to switch off.
No, I’m not talking about relaxing, well not exactly, but stepping out of this world and into the ‘zone’. That’s the place where the state of consciousness alters when the muse is in full flow – at least until the inability to power down the critical faculties crashes me back down to Earth.
When the words flood the screen there’s a kind of freedom, but all too often the internal critic comes smashing through the door to stick his damn finger in the dyke. The other finger he tends to wag my way; admonishing me for the terrible state of my composition. If I’m not quick enough, he takes a dive for the delete key, too, the swine. Continue reading “An overdose of criticality – by Mark Cantrell”
