There is a moment when the universe aligns, and the words flow from your fingertips like a river of molten honey, spicy and golden and roaring out to possess the vacant pages.
You can't control it, you can't change it - there isn't even a desire to. You are merely the channel through which it flows, and you experience the thunder and the joy and the pain as something unique emerges from you.
This is the flow state. This is the white moment.
You are the prophet of God, the mount of a loa, the voice of a universe. Zeus thrusts lightning through your brain, thunder in your ears. And the moment leads on and on, building and flowing and piling word upon word, paragraph upon paragraph, scene upon scene, characters dancing and loving and bleeding on the page in the golden light.
This blog is dedicated to that creative state.
Send 50-200 word descriptions of your flow state to flow (dot) state (at) fontaigne (dot) com.
Add brief bio, link and current works.
There is a moment when the universe aligns, and the words flow from your fingertips like a river of molten honey, spicy and golden and roaring out to possess the vacant pages.
You can't control it, you can't change it - there isn't even a desire to. You are merely the channel through which it flows, and you experience the thunder and the joy and the pain as something unique emerges from you. This is the flow state. This is the white moment.
2 comments:
This is an ambitious undertaking, and I'm going to be watching it unfold with interest.
I deleted my first try at this comment because I forgot to click something.
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