Ideas, Insanity, and Pooping

There's a bathroom in my uncle's house that's definitely haunted.  By a friendly and fictional ghost.  Which is another discussion for another day.

Today's point is that the last time I was in there, I had a few memorable thoughts; I started wondering if that bathroom might be a particularly good place for ideas; and I decided it probably was.

And that's my first place like that, my first place to go to think or get creative, my first geographical muse.

And I realize that a non-trivial percentage of idea places belong to crazy people.  But I also realize that a not even close to trivial percentage of crazy people, at least by my definition, are easily as cool as they are crazy, if you pay attention.

So, yeah, I have an idea place now.  Or I'll be testing one out anyway.  Testing it out next time I'm visiting my uncle and cousins and have to poop.

Uneven

The creative life is uneven. You have a few short bursts of genius now and then, the rest of the time you're trying SOMEHOW to get the magic back again, mostly without success. It's exhausting. I am exhausted, often.

Hugh MacLeod wrote that the other day.  On his blog, which is awesome.  And in a post that's pretty heavily religious, which I didn't expect but kind of dig.  Because I didn't expect it.  If that makes sense.

Anyway, I like the observation.  Makes me wonder how many of us not quite artists can be said to be living the creative life.