It feels like such a fleeting thing. You feel like you can reach out and grab it, but then it wisps through your fingers and dissipates like smoke. Sometimes I can grasp it for the length of a song and formulate an entire universe, but as the song ends, it fades like a dream and ten seconds later, it’s gone. The details are still there, but the visions, the emotions, the characters voices and desires are suddenly all very 2 dimensional and not strong enough to weave into a good story foundation.
There are times, though, when it’s not such a flight risk. When I can grasp it and put reins on it and attach every passing whimsy to me like a dog sled.
I’m not asking for help or advice. Inspiration is such a personal thing, no amount of “try this” will change my reality, but my reality is ever-changing. I’m interested in your experiences with it. Either right now, or over the years.