So, this month I finished chapters 5 and 6 (out of 120 planned) of the epic poem that has consumed my attention for a good number of years. I may end up calling them something else as time goes on, as chapter is very prosy sounding. Maybe I will call them fugues, who knows yet. I will likely think it my greatest achievement when I finish, but my latest product always tends to feel like a magnum opus, so I guess I am biased. However, I have noticed something over the years.
For better or worse, the things that irritate me the most evoke my creativity and inner muse. I am finding it impossible to shake the notion that complacency is the sworn enemy of all artistic endeavors. What else could drive people to go the lengths they do in order to share a sentiment, a thought, or a vision? With six out of a hundred twenty chapters complete, that must mean I have achieved five percent vexation.
There is so much to be upset with in the world though, that the other ninety-five percent should be easy to find.