When Inspiration Died, Literally

In my last post I said I would be much more organised with my posts. Ha! Life! It gets in the way…as does a severe bout of total procrastination from serial despondency.

Why? No idea. Over the last several weeks I have noticed the writing lull hovering over me and I’ve been trying to reach out to something that will get me motivated again.

Inspiration comes in the strangest ways. As I got into a shared vehicle, I rolled my eyes at the typical geriatric station playing on the radio (judgmental I know…stay tuned, I get owned), when I suddenly heard a most enchanting voice of a very posh elderly Englishman. Now perhaps because I’m a Stephen Fry fan, it was that educated style of voice that made me keep listening. It was an interview, already part way through, between a female announcer and a man who I did not recognise  (during this portion of the interview, his name was not mentioned). Regardless, I listened intently as he went over his early years as an actor, his involvement with opera, differences between England and his native Russian homeland. He was intelligent, witty, enchanting and debonair, and I was deeply captivated with his life and interests. There was also mention that he was in Australia, so I thought oooo is he doing some shows??!! As I was on my way to teach my class of creative writing students – oh the irony when having writer’s block-  I was getting super excited and hoped the other teacher in the classroom had a radio so we could play a portion to the kids and gain their reactions for a character activity. His name was then mentioned, but it was said so quickly I just grasped onto the syllables to remember and Google later. I arrived, parked the car, dashed to the classroom feeling so inspired and ready to share it. Unfortunately there was no radio so I started to fumble around on my phone to find the radio station that way. As I was doing so, I asked the other teacher, as she being of an older generation, if she knew who it was as I stammered out his apparent name.

Peter Ustinov.

For those of you who know who he is…stop laughing.


Now this is where my inspiration dissipated as quickly as it came. My colleague said ‘Yes, Sir Peter Ustinov. He’s very famous for what he’s done in stage and screen.”

“Oh wow.” I said, “It seems he’s in Australia! He sounds incredible.”

She looked at me strangely. “Isn’t he dead?”

I jumped on the internet and looked it up. Sure enough, he had died in 2004 and what I had been listening to was a recording. My hopes of seeing and hearing this man more were dashed. This is why I don’t trust geriatric radio!

My energy spiraled away like a plastic bag rolling down a car-park. It was as though the omniscient gods of creativity pointed their long fingers at me and said “Ha, feeling creative? Not today, bitch!”

But that’s OK, even though my enthusiasm was extinguished, the pilot light of my creative thought has managed to stay on since this occurrence.

After it all, there was enough to stimulate this blog post!

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