Katie made me do it.

Inspiration.

Main Entry: in·spi·ra·tion
Pronunciation: \ˌin(t)-spə-ˈrā-shən, -(ˌ)spi-\
Function: noun
Date: 14th century

1 a : a divine influence or action on a person believed to qualify him or her to receive and communicate sacred revelation b : the action or power of moving the intellect or emotions c : the act of influencing or suggesting opinions
2 : the act of drawing in; specifically : the drawing of air into the lungs

With regard to inspiration of the first variety, breathing sometimes helps. Breathing seems less important in the throes of inspiration; in my experience, one (read: Daniel) becomes so spastic that breathing is the last thing on one's mind. Then, if focus comes, awesomeness ensues. But artists of all varieties struggle with the question of inspiration. Teachers say art is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration, and that's great and all, probably true, but rarely seems to help. A woo-woo inclined therapist of mine once told me that inspiration is something you really do have to consciously breathe in sometimes. She asked me how often I go take a walk someplace I find beautiful, go look at art in a gallery or museum (not online), add fuel to the fire in my belly? Answer: not as frequently as I should.

Eleanor Roosevelt once said a beautiful young person is an accident of nature, but a beautiful old person is a work of art. I have been wondering lately if this applies also to the robustness of an artist's imagination. It certainly seemed to come easier and of its own volition back in the day.

This isn't actually meant to be a rant, and even this feels like pulling teeth. I would hate to make a generality about Generation X and beyond, to say that we don't have the discipline of previous generations, because it's not true of many individuals, and I wouldn't know how to actually measure aggregate discipline. Suffice it to say that school came easily enough for me as a child that I never learned good study habits, and that translates to my writing (such as it is). At twenty-nine, am I too old a dog to learn new tricks? Perhaps not, but the muscles to initiate and maintain this are certainly atrophied.

I think I chose this (perhaps) trite subject because despite knowing the problems and the solutions, I still struggle with this and I know other people do too. Sometimes it seems like Einstein's definition of insanity: "doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." But so it goes.

So I suppose we as writers and artists must develop our voices, our discipline, and maintain that pool of inspiration. When the pool runs dry, discipline can keep us working until we can refill it. Martha Graham said, "It takes about ten years to make a mature dancer." That's disheartening in one sense, that it takes so long to mature as an artist, but it can also be heartening in that a carefully tended artistic spirit can endure indefinitely.