How to get creative ideas and why the police won’t be happy with me

Where do you get your ideas?

It’s the one question people keep asking writers, painters, musicians — practically all artists — and the question the artists themselves cannot seem to find a definite answer for.

Well, I can.

God sends them my way. That’s it, plain and simple. All of the thoughts that land on my head are a blessing.

But they usually come when I’m alone and not worrying whether my friends are having a good time at my place or whether the food is enough for everyone or whether I remember that lady’s name from weeks ago and how can I hide the fact that I’ve forgotten it.

I don’t even have to be idle or staring out the window with distant eyes; sometimes ideas come to me while I’m doing the dishes, having a shower folding up the laundry. I just have to be alone. In a word, it’s solitude.

There are two routes

There are two routes from my place to the nearest supermarket. One is through the hospital (in through the main entrance and out through the back (warm, cozy, safe, and quite a few people in the corridors as always), and the other is around it (cold, windy, exposed to the elements, and hardly any people at all).

Now you have to understand, I’m the weird girl who goes to the supermarket when it’s dark.

And when it’s dark, the only rational thing to do would be to walk through the hospital instead of around it. But I’m not rational, apparently. That ten-minute walk is ten minutes of solitude if I use it well, so I always take the more scenic route — even if it’s dark, and raining, and 8 degrees outside. I’m only thankful that the crime rate here is very low. Then again, you never know.

Another reason to avoid people

I talk to myself. It’s true. That’s just how I think, it’s how I process my thoughts. Now if I were to walk through a hospital corridor mumbling to myself and giggling over an idea all of a sudden, I might be sent straight to psychiatry.

Sometimes when I take the quiet, scenic route on a not-so-quiet night, people see me with a pair of earphones on and may just assume I’m on the phone to someone. But I usually stop mumbling the moment I spot the first sign of intelligent life. What can I say, you can never completely avoid interruptions.


So there I’ve said it.

If you happen to catch me out at night mumbling, don’t worry. I always take my calls outside.