Because I write this blog and because, at times, I like to procrastinate writing this blog, I read other blogs from time to time.

The ones I like frequently contain short, pithy posts (by short, pithy … *smile*) by  clever – and concise – bloggers.

I appreciate the brevity of these bloggers. (Say that 10 times fast. *smile*) They say a lot in a little, or say not so much, but still in a few words and I enjoy having just enough food for thought with my morning coffee.

Yet while I like short posts, I can rarely write them. (The only short posts I seem to write are quotes by other people. *grin*)

I have things to work out.

…

See, if I’m present or lucky (or both) when I sit down to write or step forward to sing, I have an explosion of thought or the spark of an idea and the rest of the thought (the parts that complete the thought?) spreads out like the rays of a firework.

In the spark-y, exploding moment, everything is crystalline, but then like trails of light in a dark sky, the clarity begins to fade.

Ideally, I could take time to gather/recall the spark and those light ribbons in order to capture and convey the complete firework thought/idea. (I frequently save these thoughts in text messages to myself.) But, sometimes no matter how hard I try, the full firework is gone. I remember its brilliance, but I cannot find a way to share it or clarify it.

In my spontaneous singing, I work to listen as I invent so that I can repeat those things I find “spark-y.” It’s kind of like hitting the record button or taking a picture. I think of it as fixing the firework in my mind’s eye.

If I work to make sure the initial “recording” has lots of information, I can sometimes keep more of the idea as I work through it. Then tinkering with it actually makes it clearer.

…

Fixing the firework shows up in my writing as well as my singing.

Take this blog, for example.

The degree to which I tinker with a blog post and how much it is like or different from the original firework-thought intrigues, fascinates and often surprises me. More important (to me), it feels a lot like what happens when I improvise.

…

Why does this matter?

Well, as I work on a latest improv project, I realize that it helps me to understand (because we know I like to understand things! *grin*) how I think and organize and integrate ideas and inspirations. Understanding has become a big theme in my improvising and teaching. And it’s a part of my creative process (regardless of the medium).

Catching that glimpse of an idea firework out of the corner of my eye and fixing the image in my memory so I can further examine and contemplate it to recreate or reinvent it has led me to all sorts of discoveries (like this one about how I like to work *smile*)

And, maybe taking some time to think about (or notice, if that’s more you’re cup of tea) how you like to work and create and organize and integrate could help you do the thing that you do better.