So, COVID’s still in the mix. I don’t know where exactly you hang your hat, but, in my neck of the woods, things have gone to shit again. Now, I could ramble on about health-related shortcomings of Saskatchewan Premier and drunk driving enthusiast Scott Moe. I could criticize his decision to keep businesses open while simultaneously encouraging citizens not to visit them, effectively abandoning small business owners in terms of financial support and actively discouraging any would-be supporters. Hell, I could claim that his decision to suspend hookah lounges while allowing restaurants and bars to remain open is an empty gesture that did nothing to address to record-breaking numbers we’ve seen in the past month. But I’m not going to discuss any of that. No, dear reader, I’m going to talk about my favourite subject: ME. Specifically, I’m going to talk about the pit of uncreative despair that I’ve found myself in since the spring of 2020.
I’m typically a pretty busy dude. In a normal year, I’ve got something on the go four or so days a week. When we first locked down in March or so of this year, I was hoping to use my newfound free time to kick back, relax, and do something creative. Cut to December, and I haven’t accomplished a fucking thing in the creative realm. Sure, I’ve played a bit of guitar at home to fill the time, but I haven’t written a screenplay, crafted a rock opera, or even pumped out a cool riff in that time. With artists like Taylor Swift dropping folklore, Jeff Rosenstock releasing his ongoing 2020 DUMP album as songs come to fruition, and the recent recollection that Devin Townsend once wrote an entire dong-themed musical, the endless, uncreative guilt cycle is spinning out of control. Whenever I’ve sat down to write anything in self-isolation, a nagging voice in the back of my head starts chiming in about how Converge already wrote a better song just like this or how your wiener-themed operetta is contrived and uninspired.
I know, everyone should quarantine their own way, creativity is not a product, and so on and so on. And, as cliché as that’s become, I think there’s some truth to it. Sure, I haven’t written a song, or even a part of a song, in nine months, but I betcha I’ve logged more Animal Crossing hours than Taylor Swift has.
Written by Justin Bruce
*Edited by Dominic Abate
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