WTF Friday: In the Still of the Night

I am quite sure there’s a scientific explanation for why so many creative types find themselves most inspired at night. I’ll do some research at some point.  But the beauty of the blog is freedom of wild conjecture and that is what I intend to do here: conjecture wildly.  Make groundless leaps.  Pull stuff out of my ass.  Because it is so much more fun.

As I have mentioned on several occasions, I am not a night person.  I am a rooster, not an owl.  Prefer sunrise to sunset.  Coffee to wine.  Cereal to… whatever people eat in the middle of the night.  Which is probably also cereal.  I would much rather get up at 0500 then still be up at 0500.  I am more focused during the day but I am more creative at night.  I can be stuck on something ten mornings in a row; give me an hour in a PM and I’ll crack that nut so hard squirrels will come from miles away to view the devastation and learn from the mistress.

A fair bit of pain, but no agony.

Why?

Life, the universe, and everything are quieter at night.  Even in the city there’s less vehicle and foot traffic.  Darkness provides a bit of a cushion between you and the rest of the world.  The kids are asleep.  It’s easier to be your own person at night; work isn’t demanding, the laundry isn’t snarling your ankles, the dishes are tucked into the autoclave.  You can choose your background noise.

There is, quite simply, less distraction.

Less distraction means the opportunity to organize that crap that’s been kicking around in your head all day without the pressure of when the phone may ring or the cat might puke on the rug.  Less external chaos means we can focus on taming the sparkly vampires inside.

Night is the dream time.  And stories have a lot in common with dreams.  The come from nowhere (or seem to).  The are symbolic and symbols have meaning (sometimes a cigar does mean a cigar, however).  Images connect, interweave, explode.  The Dali clocks of the mind, things that don’t mesh in harsh daylight melt together and become something new or something old viewed a new lens.

The gloaming makes some things less real.  And some things so much more so, even for a rooster like me.

People with dementia and psychosis often have a more difficult time placing themselves in reality at night, a phenomenon known as sundowning.  Perhaps the creative brain does something similar, though to our benefit rather than our detriment because we can choose to exit the funhouse at any point.  We can also utilize them phenomena to feel around the edges of our story, to test the boundaries between fiction and reality, memory and moment, to drop away.

We, however, are lucky.  We get to come back.  And we can skip a night whenever we wish.

I like reasons.  I’m a reason kind of a girl.  I enjoy the hunt.  I enjoy collecting reasons.  Lack of explanation makes me jumpy.

But maybe, just maybe this time, I can let it go.

Thoughts?