The past two days I've been working on a scene in my novel in which the character is shown the beginning of the universe. It's unlike anything I've ever written, and I think I realized for the first time the power that actually comes with true creation. There's no doubt that creation relies on everything you've known, seen, or been told since the moment you were born--but even so, you're allowed to do whatever you want with it. In my head, and on paper, I created a universe these past two days. It might sound silly, but to an artist, or anyone that creates; the only way I can truly describe it is heavy.
A little like magic, too.
Stephen King has talked about shit like that for years, and I kinda thought the guy was a bit cooky and a much greater writer than I could ever be--so maybe there was magic when he sat down and penned his shit, but for me it plugging away at keys and dreading the keyboard as much as I loved it.
King is still cooky and has probably pissed out better books than I'll ever dream of creating, but I felt that fucking magic he was talking about these past two days. It felt good. At the risk of sounding a bit Stalinesque, it felt powerful.
Creation, for me, and I hope for others, is the greatest feeling in the world.
Sorry, but I'm not sorry about the lack of funny in this one. Just heaviness.