I’m watching this week’s “Project Runway” on my iPad while eating lunch.
The designers are in the workroom. I’ve just heard a certain phrase that seems to come up a few times in every season.
There are days when my writing does not go well. Sometimes, the writing is going so desperately Not Well and I am so creatively frustrated that I am forced to go to Plan Z, which commences after I have made the following ceremonial declaration:
“I am completely, 100% out of ideas. The tank is bone-dry, there is no liquid in the fuel lines, and the Vehicle of Genius has rolled to a stop at the bottom of a hill. I’ve been sitting here on this bench for hours, waiting for The Next Bus To Ideaville to arrive, and now I’m starting to doubt if this town even has bus service. I am going to just move forward without any plan. I have a childlike hope that God Himself will become so exasperated with my performance and so impatient to see results that He will manifest Himself here in the office and hand me an envelope labeled ‘A Workable Concept’ sometime before my deadline. Why? Because this is, in fact, the most rational and practical plan available to me at this moment.”
From now on, I shall shorten this to
“I’m just going to drape the dress form and allow the fabric to speak to me.”