I thought I would be writing up a storm during our week in beautiful sunny Santa Monica.
The truth is, I’m not so inspired. Don’t get me wrong, we’re a walk away from the type of beauty that makes you want to say a prayer of thanks to whatever god you believe in.
The Pacific Ocean, the mountains, the beach that is so much more pure and clean than the beaches of my east coast.
My mind seems to be blank here. For now, it’s nice to have my thoughts stop churning so quickly all the time. A reflexologist once commented that she could “sense” my inability to calm my thoughts – like a bee was always buzzing around in there.
Here, the bees are quiet. Maybe too quiet for a writer.
I imagine that’s why so many creative people move here – to clear the mental clutter and make room for the next screenplay, painting, or novel. It works for some people.
But, I suspect a lot of other artists, musicians, and writers return back east because they miss the unpredictable weather, the rude customer service, and those bees buzzing around in their mind.