Creative Psychosis

Alternate Designation: She Put The Octane In My Engine And I Rode Her All Day

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It’s before 7am and even the sun has not bothered to get its lazy ass up. I lean on my kitchen counter to prepare the morning’s cup of “322″ elixir. Three shots espresso, two shots Kahlua, two shots dark rum, a fist full of granola and the other ice cubes. Blend? No, liquefy. I love how the ice crunches in my blender like numbers in an accountant’s wet dream. Fifteen seconds and I spell relief, but I’m not awake yet, so I just sound it out phonetically.

Now the ingestion. Pound it like not only is there no tomorrow, but like today is ending right now unless this concoction is dancing with the enzymes in the next five seconds. I suppose I could sip, but I think the violent motion wakes me up just as much as the drink itself.

It’s a virus that spreads through the host, and there’s nothing like the caffeine jitters to shake up a random thought for creative use. So good I get a ringing in my ears, as if a smoke alarm is playing Earth Wind & Fire underwater. This routine is the beginning of my daily psychosis, my creative chainsaw to hack through everyday life.

Of course, I’ve never actually done this little routine. But I like to pretend I do. That my morning cup of coffee will taste celestial if I honestly believe it will bring me to a higher level, to make my brain Hulk out. Cue the metamorphic music, and Lou Ferrigno steps into my skull and growls and pushes running tractors backward and produces me some righteous art and writing. Dig it, sucka.

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If only it were that easy. We all know what our optimal creative state is, and yet we acknowledge that it’s hard to get into that zone. Sure, things like a good breakfast or some strong coffee or good herbs (I mean the vitamin form, my ganja toking friends out there) will get us into the groove, but it means nothing without the mental mindset.

The ability to concentrate when you’re not worrying about getting laid off, about where your kids are, about where your loved one is, or if you’ll ever even find a loved one. I see so much distraction in the world that I could become a professional distracter. Get a yellow page ad, 800 number, monogrammed pens. Just hire me and I will help you miss the rest of your life in glorious obfuscation. But I’m not having that shit. And neither should you.

Knowing that you’re wasting your creative talent is like walking a block downwind of a slow moving garbage truck. You could stop smelling the stench if only you’d just take off in a sprint to get ahead of it.

Additionally, you could read all of the self-help books in the world and it won’t mean a stir-fried cat’s ass if you don’t have the will to apply theories to life. You might be wondering: am I trying to motivate you? Nope, I leave that to the people trying to make money off of others’ desperation. I’m merely putting the writing in the sky. You can sit on your beach chair and get back to working on a nice tan. Have a fruity mixed drink with a little umbrella.

Because if you’re happy with the way you roll your creative style out, then by all means, share your methods of preparation here. But if you’re not, then take a couple moments to think what you need to do to kick-start your creative chainsaw— be it a cup of coffee, magic elixir, gamma rays, or ultimately the basic conscious decision to do what you want without distraction.