The Process of Art


Life is funny. A frown? A nod? The other day a close friend (I call her Daktari) of mine, texts me like, ‘I have a female writer friend of mine would you like to say hi.’ I love writers. I would never say no to a writer *wink.* So mama raised me right. I say hi and ask for an introduction. You will not guess what I got. Anyone? ‘A struggling writer.’ I screamed at my phone. I know writers are modest. But struggling is not a definition of modesty. She gave some excuses for the description but I was buying none of it. I did a small piece for her for my writing process just to show her that we all struggle but it is not a description we use on ourselves. Jane this is for you:

Nice…kesho I am expecting your piece but kesho starts from midnight right…but keep me posted as I also tell you about my writing process it is a funny story actually.

So I am usually seated somewhere (or just sleeping)…no one is really counting…then an epiphany moment occurs.

I get this crazy idea (I also write or get ideas when I listen to music. So we got something similar)…in my mind I play with it and how I can transform it into words and the good angel in my head is dancing praising me for being a genius…

So I plan how it is all going to be…the layout of the post (don’t forget all this while I am this genius writer…getting all this praise from the guy in my head)…I write down on paper or on my phone this pointers (call it a rough draft of sorts).

This process doesn’t necessarily take like a span of one day (sometimes it even goes to months)…now the genius me (hope you haven’t forgotten. Just in case) starts planning on how the grand idea will be written down and sent out into the world and wow everyone…so after some push n pull I get around to writing it out…don’t you hate disasters? You do? I thought as much. So I sit check…pen n paper check…computer or tablet check…I start writing and then boom out of nowhere…

The devil in me rises from the ashes…I am only five words in and what does he tell me, ‘that is crap you are writing,’ I want to fight it…Ignore the bastard I tell myself. Three more words and I am stuck. Does he have a point? Will it be any good really? I delete everything I had written and stare blankly into space. What am I trying to achieve? To wow hearts and probably touch some lives. Who told you you could do that? But I love writing? And some people love my writing? Yah they loved your previous works, what makes you think they will fancy this one you want to write? But? No buts? The turmoil in my mind is real. I am stuck. Hopelessness. Defeat. My inner demons are hell bent on winning. The prospects for my angelic side are anything but slim…

Guns blazing. The battle is fought. Tired and bloodied my angelic side manages somehow to win. Let us just produce whatever? If they love it or hate, at least we won one battle already. Hope they like it? Fingers crossed. Wait!!!..Before you hit the publish button. Are you sure that is your best? How do I know if it my best? At least I gave it my all. Fine then, if they hate it, that is on you. Here goes nothing. The wait. A little while longer never hurt anyone. They love it. Hooray! Hooray! We can party now. Where is the wine? Where are the glasses? Don’t forget the dancing shoes. A party you said? Are you sure? (The devil in me always asking the wrong questions at the wrong time. This guy needs a course on time. The concept seems to completely escape him). What now? You are here celebrating instead of planning your next post. Are you sure you will meet their expectations? Damn. He has a point. Nervousness. Doubt. Party cancelled. The cycle of being a writer. The end.

Teiya Oloilole


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