I was in a funk the other week.
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| George Clinton, in his BPT hat |
And I’m not talking about funk in a George Clinton sense or a James Brown kind of way. I am not making a sly reference to Earth, Wind & Fire. What I am talking about is a good old-fashioned, old-school bad mood. But more than just a mood, really – moods can change like the wind. This was lasting. And when it’s lasting, a dark mood such as this one can be officially classified as a funk. I had the funk. Who (or what) gave it to me?
I tried to blame it on a lot of things, like the Oscars (not enough interesting fashion missteps, super-predictable winners, boring acceptance speeches, and James Franco…ugh. My crush on him = SO over). I tried to blame it on the weather, but that didn’t work very well because we seemed to actually be through the worst of it. I also tried to pin it on the color of the wall in my study, the position of the moon, my neighbor’s cat, my other neighbor giving me the evil eye, the combined negative energy of all the scorpios on the planet, the fact that our house is located on the north side of the street... You know what I’m saying.
The truth was that I wasn’t writing well. And that’s because in order to write well, one must be able to actually…write.