I can already smell it in the morning air. An iron-like scent that lingers long enough to be sensed, but it disappears too quickly to be fully identified. The leaves are turning yellow and orange – but slowly, many are still quite green. The sun now sets in the evening. We can light candles again, and use blankets.
I find the changing nature to be truly inspiring, especially after a particularly hot summer. Wrapping yourself in a coat and scarf, breathing in the crisp, cool air is both a longed-for relief and a grim foreshadowing of the upcoming winter.
I always seem to remember autumn the best. Memories of bygone, childhood days re-emerge as soon as the leaves start to fall: the start of a new school term, shopping for new school supplies, the nervous excitement at being back and starting a new year.
I find this time of year so inspiring. Almost as if those memories help my creativity flourish. It’s hard to pinpoint the exact reason why, but then again, there’s no need for it either. This results in a mishmash of creative processes and a seemingly endless struggle to make sense of it all. I really want to work on my manuscript, but I’m also super excited to finalise some things in my worldbuilding. On top of that, I have several great ideas for concept art that I would like to start working on before I loose my ‘flow’. Not to mention me having neglected my social media presence for a couple of days and I’m feeling the pressure to get going with it again.
Being a writer is hard, yes, yes. The funny thing is, I already knew this, but I keep getting reminded of it time and time again almost as if for the first time. How does that work exactly? I’m curious. Do we forget about it temporarily in our creative frenzy when everything’s working smoothly, or are we simply tugging along in a constant state of denial? I suppose it doesn’t really matter, as long as we make the most out of the ‘flow’ once we have it.
With that said, I should probably get back to my manuscript.