Snapshot Of A Saturday Morning

A glimpse at getting bored on purpose

I’m bored.

That’s not me complaining. That’s me celebrating the intended goal. That goal being…boredom.

People always ask “Where do you get your ideas from?” A lot of writers, artists and musicians make fun of this question behind closed doors. I’m still a firm believer in that there’s no such thing as a dumb question so I don’t look down at that one. That’s not to say it’s an easy question to answer, but it’s not a dumb one to ask. However, over time I’ve realized that the bigger question almost never asked is…

When do you come up with your ideas?

The answer to that is simple. When I’m bored. Or better yet, when I’m smart enough to allow myself to be bored. Being bored leads to your mind wandering. Daydreaming. Looking for something to fill that space of nothing. The mind is pretty fucking cool in that way. But you have to let yourself be in a place that it can start to look around and ask questions that it will start to answer. I’ve made the mistake of trying to schedule brainstorming or creating, haha. Like “From 10am to 12pm, you will generate an idea good enough for you and others to dedicate the next several years bringing to life for the masses to read and enjoy.” I just doesn’t work that way.

Being bored is good. And giving you self an open ended run at being bored is great! Just lean in! I have a lot more to say on this subject and will do a deeper dive very soon. But for now, I wanted to give a realistic view of me getting into that open boredom. It thought that it might be helpful to see what it looks like sometimes when I’m trying to cook up the next thing. Mostly, I want to show you that it’s not as romantic as you may think. We’ve all seen the videos of writers walking out to the wooded studio, or their loft or oceanside cottage. This is what it looks like today while i’m trying to dream up my next project.

It’s 9:35am Saturday morning and I’ve been on my back deck since about 7:30am. The rest of my family is sleeping. A few in their bedrooms, one on the living room couch because his smells like fresh paint. Because, well, it’s freshly painted. I’m also out here because it’s finally not 4 billion degrees and I love having coffee outside in the morning. So, let me show you around out here.

First up we have my glorious throne of ideas. You may notice that there is only one place with cushions to sit on. You are correct. It’s not because I need to be alone and am sending the signal that no one is allowed to join me. Nope. It’s because I constantly leave all the cushions out and they get rained on and are soaking wet 95% of the time. Somehow, I managed to get one set dry enough to sit on, but still have a damp ass.

It’s very early in the morning and pretty humid, but that doesn’t stop me from firing up a Tiki lamp thingy. It’s meant to deter the mosquitos from feasting on me. I think It may actually be summoning them. Looks cool though.

Can’t be bored and dream up new stories without a little coffee in your Gameboy.

I’m surrounded by big, beautiful trees filled with chirping birds and the light pulsating hum of cicadas.

Also by the pile of new cushions I bought to replace the 6 year old waterlogged ones. Why are they piled up instead of placed around for people to sit on, myself included? Well, as I told you before, I leave cushions out all the time. It’s not intentional. I always plan to do it later. But the rain knows that and forever thwarts my good intent. Also, because they suck. Yup, I ordered them online because they looked good, but in reality, they somehow make it feel like you have less padding than no padding at all. It’s some sort of sorcery I believe.

You don’t need the perfectly manicured environment that’s beaming with inspiration everywhere you look. You just need a notebook, pen and some time to get bored because there are stories everywhere. Imagine what society of tiny beings have discovered the Blue Mount atop Wicker Ridge. How long will their world last before I have to destroy the stack of cushions? Will my Tiki Lamp start a conversation with Gameboy? Asking intriguing questions like will he ever be able to join the majestic Torches in the yard or will he have to be alone up on the deck failing at his job of defending humans against the hordes of bloodsuckers? Gameboy doesn’t have the answer because he too lives an unfulfilled life. He knows he will never be a great powerful machine like the wonderful thing has been made to look like.

Isn’t being bored fun? I’m gonna get back to it. Have a great Saturday.