I could write a post about having writer's block? Seems quite fitting.
I remember when I was in school doing my GCSE's and we had these 200 odd pages of Anthology to revise and annotate and by the end of the year they were full of scribbles and class doodles and who knows what else; oh yeah actual annotations. Anyway, I digress. We went to this poetry show/thing in town at St. Georges Hall where practically every year some of the Poets from our Anthology lingered and either read a few pieces of their work or did a Q & A session. I was a prolific poetry writer at this point so I was really psyched to go (I know sad world we live in).
Dorothy: I don't like this forest, it's dark and it's creepy
Scarecrow: I don't know but I think it will get darker before it gets lighter
Dorothy: Do you suppose we'll meet any wild animals?
Tinman: We might
Scarecrow: Animals that eat straw?
So, off we went to this poetry thing and all the poets one by one came out and did their thing then this poet (poetess? What is the P/C version of poet?) came out and did a Q & A. I was quite looking forward to seeing her because I like her work and someone asked her 'What do you do to combat writer's block?' and she said 'Nothing. It's a myth made up by some random writers that decided they were going to give themselves a rest', she mentioned that if a poet was a real poet they could write about anything through their own creativity; even to this day I can't decide whether or not she was actually joking. Could writer's block really be a myth? What exactly is it called when our brains can't think of the words to write? To imaginatively create our own little world where lions and tigers and bears exist?
Tinman: Um Some, but mostly lions and tigers and bears
Scarecrow: And Tigers?!
Tinman: And bears.
Dorothy: Lions, and tigers and bears. OH MY!
I love 'The Wizard of Oz' isn't it just a fascinating film! A wonderful case of the imagination stopping at nothing to go as far as it can. I mean, in her mind she even goes as far as to make out that the almighty Wizard of Oz is nothing but an old man sat in a chair not a big steam of smoke and hollow voices. In the end Dorothy is dreaming, but it all seems so real to her, just like when we are dreaming... When does it get to the point where we realise we are in a dream?
I think that's why I love films so much. Not the predictable romcom ones but films like 'Inception' and 'Pay it Forward' etc because they get you thinking. The writers for films like these must have seriously amazing brains, to meticulously plan every single little thing so that it all somehow fits together at the end. That's also why I like books, you burrow eyes peeled through the pages desperately trying to find out how it all fits together in the end. I love it when you get to end and you think 'Wow, I did not see that coming'. I need something to challenge my brain!