I'm at a bit of a loss right now. I'm full of creative energy -- buckets of it -- but I can't seem to focus. I can't sit still -- my fingers twitch, my mind wanders, my eyes dart to and fro. I need to make something! And I've lots of likely candidates -- I've two short stories (A Live Boy the most complete) which need endings, two unfinished (read: barely started) plays, four unfinished screenplays of varying lengths, and about 100 photos which need processing and color correcting. I've got lines to memorize for an upcoming play, and preliminary work to do on the production elements for said play. There's plenty I could be doing. Now, I know why the photos go unfinished: my old Epson photo printer finally "died" -- it refuses to print colors anywhere near where I specify them, ColorSync profiles be damned -- so I can't print them for display or sale anyway, but that hardly explains the rest.
But none of these are holding my attention. I need to create, but am wildly unfocused. Maybe, with all the writing I've been doing lately, I'm just burnt out. Maybe I'm experiencing creative block, for the first time in, gosh, a long time. I dunno.
So, the other night I spent two hours drawing this random werewolf. It calmed the buzzing in my brain, temporarily, anyway. There are worse ways to spend a Tuesday night, I guess, and maybe now I can clearly focus on one of the tasks above. He's just made of pencil and bristol board, and seething werewolf rage. He has big, scary hands and feet and, for some reason, a ring on his right index finger.
If you like, you can call him Randy.