March 19th, 2002. Creative Constipation.

I've got writer's block again.

It's not that I'm short on ideas really, but when I sit myself down in front of a pad of paper, nothing happens. And you can try anything you want: coffee, tea, you might even resort to coaxing it out verbally. In the end, you leave feeling heavy and frustrated. Maybe I should eat more bran.

I never know what to do with writer's block. Some people try to inspire themselves by going somewhere they love, others twist open a bottle and try to find the answer at the bottom. Personally, I find that if I just ignore it, it goes away eventually. Kinda like the rain.

I put my apple on the table to free up my hands (so I could type) and noticed that it looked nice in the sunlight.

This reminds me of something you might see at a rustic Bed & Breakfast somewhere along the countryside. I've never been to one before, but I'm sure they have apples and twigs abound.