No, I do not actually work in a mine.
I work at a historic site, and I’m in education. It’s my job to figure out fun and engaging things for you to do when you visit. And that it what I am supposed work on at the moment.
Instead I’m typing. Because there isn’t a lot else I feel compelled to do at the moment.
My job requires a lot of creativity, and sometimes the creative juices either don’t flow at all, or flow in ‘the wrong’ direction. This is not to say that I haven’t been productive today, I have. I just wish I was more productive.
But I have a plan, and I know that’s the first most important step.
“The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanely sensitive. To them… a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create — so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, their very breath is cut off… They must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency they are not really alive unless they are creating.” – Pearl Buck