Creative Frenzy

I have this need to create.

I want to form extraordinary pieces from ordinary things, to feel the ultimate joy in expressing myself in something beautiful. This need cuts through my ability to focus and disrupts my ability to be productive. My fingers are itching to start doodling in the margins of my textbook. I have a Moleskin notebook where I write and sketch things that inspire me, and it is practically oozing, whispering about ideas to me as I try to complete French homework.

Quelle plante menace l'existence de la planete du petit prince?


I can hear it. It's begging me to crack open it's worn spine and spill over the ideas that I haven't wanted to lose.

Pourquoi le petit prince voulait-il un mouton? 


Once I finish these questions on Le Petit Prince, I will start on an art project. I'm promising myself that as a form of motivation to finish this homework. I'm just not sure where to start. I have so many ideas circling through my brain and I can't decide which one to take out and put under a microscope before I transfer it into physical creation.

My ideas seem to be multiplying with my cells as they grow and divide. My need to cast away the French homework and open my box of art supplies taunts me as I try to repress the fact that every pore in my body is whispering to me about the promise of creating art that I will be proud of.

Bisecting the once tenacious nucleus of my being, I'm left with two debating halves of a whole.