Shit. I was going to write something. Now I forgot what it was.
Was it that thing on my own personal spiritual path?
Was it about my writing. Perhaps. I did just get to ten pages on the epic work I’ve undertaken this year. That’s awesome!
Now, if only I can actually get over my fear of writing dialogue and tackle that pilot I dreamt about a couple weeks ago.
I’ve felt so inspired lately.
Yesterday one of my crossfit coaches inspired me in a creative way by showing me a trailer to a film project he hopes to get rolling this summer.
A couple days ago, I was inspired by a friend who was cutting my hair. Overwhelmingly inspired, actually.
I’m filled with smiles.
I haven’t slept in my own bed for 4 nights straight. And it doesn’t feel weird at all. In fact, I’m beginning to feel more at home at his place than at my own. And the fact that that is not scaring me is scaring me.
I’ve been inspired by my writing class. I’ve been inspired to be the writer that I’ve always been. I’m falling back in love with words. I’m falling back in love with communication and message. I’m falling in love with the poetry of my life…and I that really freaks me out–in such a good way.
I’m being inspired by the character I’ve created in the piece I’m working on. I’ve created her and now SHE is inspiring me.
I wrote in my pocket journal yesterday, “I miss Jenny.” That’s her name. The name she and I agreed upon after about 4 pages of just calling her ‘she.’
I’m getting re-inspired by crossfit and all my fellow Hollywood crossfitters.
I’m being inspired by my own sweat.
I’m feeling movement.
Perhaps it is that I got up before 6:00 this morning, had sex, ate something simple, healthy, and tasty, and then did some writing–and it isn’t even 9:00 yet!