Something I talk to a lot of writers about is the abyss. That dark inner room we all peer into in the hope of unlocking our creativity and honing it into an outpouring of language. A pitch black well of intangible ink that brands our expression across the bright empty white of the page. In every word and sentence I write, there are multiple dimensions, riddles buried below, and I temper those forces with what is made clear and what is left absent. It is the black beyond each letter. It is the void of truth.
Another, perhaps more positive, way to look at it, is that it’s like the sun. Its presence, existence, is vital. You can always see it from the corner of your eye – but your interaction with it has to be oblique. Glimpse directly into its blinding emptiness, and there is, eventually, only darkness.
And a writer’s job, sometimes, is to stare unblinking, as long as it takes to create form from what initially appears to be emptiness. Stories, prose, scripts, answers, inspiration, whatever. The void is what you make of it. Just don’t hurt yourself. It can have a powerful effect on you…
Star or abyss? The “dark place” always seemed like a more apt description befitting of where inspiration comes from. I wonder why that is? Maybe they’re just one and the same, and I lack the perspective to see both at once. Or maybe it’s because the darkness is easier to look into. At least until your mind starts to fill it up.
The thing about a void is that you’re never sure what you’re seeing. You can only fill those blanks with your own interpretations. It can be filled with things we’re looking for, or the grand sum of all our fears. An expression of eternal desire or a passing joke. When questioning what’s really in there, you only need to look as far as what an old green muppet once said: “Only what you take with you”. Can you blame anyone for seeing a bit of themselves in their own shadow?
Though James may be unaware of the full extent of Mica’s darkness, he’s no fool, and must have his suspicions. But when the darkness knows your name, when it proves to be your ally against your foes, how much are you willing to forgive? How much are you willing to put aside in the hopes of not traversing the dark alone?
But it’s still our choice to traverse the dark, alone or not. The thing is, if you venture too deep, you end up tumbling, sometimes hurtling, further away from the blinding light. It’s hard to know where it will lead, so maybe another step closer wouldn’t hurt. Just a little bit further. Deeper and deeper, without end. Never stopping.
Only building momentum.