It is a challenging thing, remembering how to be creative. Or, more true--remembering how to create. It used to be effortless. It used to require no juice from the gray matter, just heat from the heart and the belly, hands and fingers translating the dance, the rhythm into something tangible, something relatable.
Surely, surely if we'd unfasten a few buttons--just the ones up by our throats--loosen a few ties, kick our shoes beneath the bed, toss our socks over our shoulders, we'd be that much closer to, that much more suitably dressed for, our creative selves.