endless rhythms

There is a picture called Endless Rhythms by Robert Delauney and painted in 1934. It reminds me of the gyre in the previous post, this concept of never ending and constantly evolving ideas that are self perpetuating. This is what a writer does. You get one idea which sparks another and then another fuelled by research, experience and moments - those beats in your life which leave an indelible imprint on you.
But this is where it gets to be a problem - for me anyway at the moment. My writing was flowing, I ws loving writing and happy with what was coming out (for a firstish draft) but then along comes this rhythm stick that was stuck through the spokes of my writing bicycle and now I have gone flying over the handlebars and come to a grinding halt flat on my face. The writing has stopped, the flow is a mere trickle that evaporates the moment it hits the air and I don't know how to get that feeling back. And all becuase of rhythm. I need to find it. Maybe I will, maybe there will be an epiphany and someone will tell me what it means but in the meantime I will have to hope that the Chinese New Year re-ignites my rhythm.


This is a performance of Chinese Drums for Chinese New Year and an alternative rhythm of life.