When your creativity goes for a wander - and so does your notebook

Apologies for not writing for a while my darlings.  I don't seem to be a person who blogs.  Well, not one that blogs on the regular!

Any-hoo thought I would just come on and pen my thoughts related to my current creative situation- i.e. my creativity has gotten up and gone for a wander. Or at least my inspiration.  

This happens to me now and then, and it is something that I have learned to accept as a part of my process.  Sometimes I am inspired and so creative that there is not enough time or energy in my day in order to be able to start, work on and complete everything that I have buzzing in my head like a hive of busy worker bees.  Then sometimes the buzzing is stopped and my hive hibernates.  

These periods of hibernation and quiet can be fine, they can be a good thing.  Sometimes I have emptied my creative well and the quiet is the need to fill the well.  Other times, my struggles with anxiety and depression, which I am very open about, hit me hard and I find myself unable to create.  

During these times I have tried and tested methods for handling the cards I am dealt.  Sometimes, a simple exercise in reducing my materials and taking scribbles and doodles to my journal will allow the well to begin filling up and new ideas will come as a product of that process.  Others will need my morning pages / general written journaling to dive into what the heck is going on- and usually when I detangle whats going on, the way becomes open for things to happen again.

One of my main go-to methods of dealing with a creative hiatus is to delve backward in my notebook.  I write all my ideas down as they come to me in this notebook.  My notebooks usually contain budgets, ideas, to do lists, planning, and a whole host of other things, but they always contain the ideas I have had that I have yet to work on and/ or complete.  I delve backwards, remind myself what these ideas were, when I had them and what was going on at the time.  My lists of ideas can be as sort as three or four lines of large in depth projects or five A4 sides broken down into two columns and full of projects sized from tiny and easy to do to behemoth in-depth projects.  

So what happens when you are waist deep in the depths of a swirling lack of creativity that has plagued you for weeks and you go to find your fanatical notebook of salvation and dreams to find that it is missing / lost / been kidnapped by your creativity and run off to Bermuda?  Panic! That's what!  

OK so I didn't panic at first.  At first I tried all the places that it could have been.  I started at home in my living room in my pile of stuff.  Nope, not there, bookcases? Nope.  Under the sofa? Nope. Under the chair? nope.  The panic begins to rise, but I keep my cool because I know that if I panic I will devolve into a blubbery panic stricken mess and I will never find it.  I check the bedroom, the "wreck room". (look for a post coming on the wreck room.  Eventually I will write one.  Promise.  Look on all the shelves, in the kiddos things, check the kiddo's bedroom. Nada. Nothing.  OK.  So its not in the house.  Car.  Back seats, front seats, under the seats, inside the pockets on the back of the seats, the boot.  Nothing.  Check man-flesh's car.  Nothing.  OK.  It must be at the studio. 

Now the studio has undergone some furniture rearrangements and is a completely disorganised chaotic trauma of a space that needs dealing with but hasn't.  It is therefore entirely possible that, this being the case, my notebook is hidden.  I look in all the places I might put it.  Nothing.  I enlist the help of kiddo and man-flesh.  A fresh set of eyes,  a fresh height differential.  Out of the box thinking.  Nada.  The panic is in full effect but I am keeping a rein on it because the kid is there and I know if I freak out that man-flesh will get cross.  I decide to take a break.  If I don't think about it, it will turn up and everything will be fine.  It will.  Honestly. It will.

Days pass and it hasn't surfaced.  It's laughing at me.  I start a new notebook out of defiance of the missing one.  If I start a new one, then the universe will surface my notebook out of Sod's law and I can go back to using it.  My brother tells me that I cannot invoke Sod's law.... I state that I can.  New notebook is lovely.. but not the same and I still have no new ideas...  

During this time, man-flesh has been away from work and upon his return, I ask him to help me gut the studio to look for the notebook which is now my nemesis.  This has become a battle of wills... with my inanimate object...  Man-flesh returns home and I let him have a day because he hasn't slept whilst he has been away, so even though I need to find it, I keep my stress inside. 

We go to the studio.  We hunt. He hunts.  Not there.  I panic.  Outwardly.  It finally happens.  I nearly cry, but I try not to because that won't help.  I feel hopeless and like I have no idea where to start with the process of beginning over again- especially when I have no spark of creative energy or ideas left in me.  My whole world is caving in.  (Remember I am panicking so this is a completely rational internal monologue).  

We come home.  I am resigned.  It's gone, my ideas are gone and I will have to start over.  I have no idea how.  Man-flesh says he will continue looking and three goddamn minutes later he returns with my notebook. No I am not going to tell you where it was.  But yes, I laughed, because it warranted laughter and tears and much hugging and praise.

You may wonder what relevance this has, or what lessons you could take from my trauma.  Honestly, I can say that I have no wisdom here, other than... don't lose your notebook.

Moving on from this trauma, where do I go now? To my notebook to find an idea or two I can work on and see how things work out.