Inside the creative mind is a sea of possibilities.
I have, at present, hit the red line that has sucked the wind from my sails.
Like the belt around Earth 5 degrees south and north of the equator, where a sailboat is about as useful as a car without gas, my brain sits on hold. It waits for the perfect storm of churning brain and coherent thought needed to create a hurricane of ideas.
Yes, my writer’s mind is stranded in a sea without the slightest breeze of creativity to propel it forward, useful only for writing reports that no one wants to read.
Have I mentioned my fear of boats? No?
There are some things in life that duct tape can’t fix.