There's thinking. And then there's thinking. And then there's really thinking. And then there's not thinking. And that's when you strike gold.
Trust me. I have observed the creative process (atleast for a writer) and have discovered that it's not so much thinking as waiting for the lightning strike. But it doesn't involve conscious waiting. You have to trick your mind into preparing its landing site and then let it wander around. pretending as if it has everything else to do but wait.
So here's how it goes.
You attempt a sort of reading up or research. You find all that there is to know, or all that you want to know. You do a google search, a wiki search, whatever.
All hyper activity ends here.
Then you get up, feeling busy and as if you've accomplished something. You take a coffee break, you go talk to someone who is in the same boat and if not, distract them into chatter.
You go back to your chair and your computer. You open a blank Word document. You type a word-precisely, slowly, momentously. Maybe a whole sentence. You smile at your accomplishment.
You put your feet up and gaze thoughtfully at your screen. You delete the whole sentence.
You stare at your notebook and hastily turn back the pages (filled with drawings from the Pictionary game last evening). You scribble whatever comes to your head about the topic at hand.
That's when the doodling starts. And it doesn't stop. It is addictive. Triangles, flowers, stars, girls,but mostly abstract designs spill out of the tip of your pen. They meander past the margins of the page, flee the borders and occupy certain stage. Somehow, drawing a triangle-based. upward-bound, chaotic design becomes your purpose of existence for that moment. Then it hits you that it's not. That's when you put down your pen and look guiltily around you. No one saw that. And no one cares. (doodling is a ubiquitous crime) As if to compensate, you scribble two lines of your favourite song diagonally across the top of your page.
This is when you close your notebook with a flourish, you toss it aside and stride out of there. You go play Pictionary (which I've developed an addiction for in the past few days. Not so much for the drawing, but for the guessing.) And then you eat!
Then you come back. sleepy and lethargic. You stare at the screen. You pick up your pen.
And then it happens.
And you can't stop.
And nothing else matters-not the song that you particularly hate playing in the background, not the clamour of numerous voices colliding around you, not the fact that you're thirsty or have to go to the bathroom.
And then it ends.
You smile. The endorphins, the satiation you feel is incomparable.
And then you go play.
Before it all begins again.