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Inspiration…

…is such a funny thing, isn’t it? I’m always so amazed by what inspires me and how different things will spark inspiration in different ways. Being a trained “photographer” (I put that in quotations because, although it is my passion, it is sadly not my livelihood right now), I was taught to find inspiration in everything I saw. Generally speaking, I can see inspiration everywhere I go. I’m thankful for that.

Being a person who spends a good portion of their waking hours in the kitchen, I can also smell, feel, and taste inspiration. For example, just yesterday, I was walking down Yonge Street and got a whiff of something that smelled like whipped cream and heaven…in reality it was just the waffle/crepe shop with their front window open…and I was hit so hard with an idea for a flavour of vegan ice cream I really want to create. And hit hard! I could taste the exact flavour I want, I could see it and I could almost feel the cool spoonfuls melting on my tongue. I was so preoccupied with the idea of it that I rambled to my Mom about it hours later on the phone.

That leaves sound, doesn’t it? I’ve convinced myself all my life that if I had to pick hearing or sight, I would definitely pick sight because hearing doesn’t affect me quite so much. I’m basically tone deaf and have no natural rhythm whatsoever. I didn’t start paying attention to music until I was about 15. I just listened to whatever anyone put on and essentially forgot music was on. Then, my parents bought me an acoustic guitar and I started taking lessons. After a few months of practicing and developing calluses on my fingers, I noticed something incredible…music started to become more audible to me. And I found myself able to understand it: the notes, the melody, the lyrics. That’s what started me listening to music and researching music and, especially, enjoying music. I started to soak it all up. I even wrote a few things of my own along the way.

When Husband and I started dating, I was introduced to different types of music: rockabilly, punk, and hardcore namely. I devoured them. Okay, not so much with the hardcore but the rockabilly and punk for sure. I love the catchiness and twanginess of the rockabilly and I love very political, somewhat melodic punk.

Recently, I’ve been finding so much inspiration in left-wing political, acoustic punk. So much I wanna cry sometimes. Or scream. I get so much inspiration coming at me that I don’t know how to catch it and hold onto it, nurture it and then release it. I’m left with a big pile of half-ideas and fragments-of-thought at my feet and not a clue how to pick up the pieces. Funny, isn’t it? It’s the inspiration itself that has given me artist’s block.

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