When I tell people I’m a writer most of them want to know where I get my inspiration from. It seems like such a silly thing to ask. But the thing is that oftentimes I can’t even give them a satisfactory answer, mostly because the best answer would go like this, “Everywhere.”
I don’t go out looking for inspiration. I don’t do this or that thing because I want to have something to write about. This may become a sort of reflex, when you live your life in order to transform it into art, but I don’t think we should purposefully search for ideas.
Every once in a while, you feel like taking a break. You want to stop writing and travel a bit. Or just have some fun. Or try something new; do something you’ve always wanted to do but never had the courage or time or money.
Inspiration can be found anywhere. You don’t even need to be searching for it. Inspiration finds you, not the other way around. It’s not even about paying attention.
I believe that artists are easily influenced by their surrounding environments. They have a sort of… sixth sense, with which they can observe and oftentimes accurately describe what their eyes see, what their ears hear, what their noses smell. They see things not for what they are, but for what they’d hope them to be, for what they imagine them to be.
The add, change, remove, embellish, and generally alter real elements until they become fantastic.
Simply put, artists are the world’s best liars.
So it’s not about where or how or at what hour of the day (or night) to find inspiration, but more about what to do with it. If you’re brave enough, you can write about anything. Or try to write about everything. There are no boring subjects, just boring artists.
An artist sees the world, absorbs as much as he can, and then he just does his best to show the world what he saw. The vision, the originality, all that doesn’t depend so much on what enters his brain, but rather what comes out of it.