I was at a restaurant the other day with my partner when the wait turned into a longer ordeal than anticipated. I was not really surprised, as it was a new place. My first instinct happened to be leaving, too, but I didn’t want to be a spoilsport.

So we waited. We waited for a table, we waited for service, then we waited a ridiculous amount of time for mediocre food. Somewhere during the period between sitting down and getting served, I was asked why I wasn’t writing. There is always some sort of writing material on my person, even if it’s a cheap pen and a scrap of paper. I don’t feel right without it.

But do you know why I wasn’t writing? Because I was hungry. The old belly grumbled way too determinedly for me to focus on any kind of storytelling.

I thought that was a funny sort of blessing. Of all the big issues that plague countless poor, blocked artists, my issue happens to have been a very brief one with biology.

So, what stops you from writing or drawing or whatever it is that makes you feel personally productive? I doubt it’s your appetite for protein and carbohydrates. Do you suffer guilt over other things you think you “should” be doing? I say, go feed that creative hunger! Stop being a starving artist. Your whole being will thank you.

3 thoughts on “Starving Artist

  1. this is so weird… that your name is Sands, and my name is Sands, and that you have a blog called Writer's Retreat, and I am organizing international writers retreats… hahahaha.
    seriously. we must connect!


  2. What a fun post! I think it's an important reminder that the basics have to be taken care of in order for us to create. Food, shelter, clothing… these are necessities. It's not that writing isn't necessary, because I'm a walking testament to the fact that it is (for me anyway), but if those basic needs aren't met, we cannot focus on what's really important.

    Which leads me to another observation, that it's interesting to me that when I am afraid of creating, for whatever reason, I'll tend to drop the ball on those three basics. Sort of an interesting coping tool that's not very healthy, eh?

    I'm glad you were able to turn your unpleasant restaurant experience into fodder for the writing mill – that's the best way to use a wait at a restaurant, in my opinion!

  3. What a small world, Linda! Thanks for the kind words, Catherine! I hope you're creating and also taking good care of yourself.

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