from an email to an old flame:

I could imagine you leading a spartan mental life, especially in your years of seeking transcendence. There's a subtle impulse that is only felt in moments of internal quiet (or extreme upheaval). It's a strange experience, at least for me, because it's like finding another personality within myself. It urges me to do things that surprise me, and it also gives me the strength to follow these impulses through. But these impulses are also irregular, and even when I'm quiet, I don't always detect them. I suspect it's the same for you, and that's why you have shaped your mind "with a spartan ethic." Because it been a means to transcendent inspiration.

The odd thing is that when I was younger, much younger. . . . When I was a teenager, inspiration came from consumption. I'd read a book or hear a song, and it elevated something inside me. Sometimes my thoughts would be swept away in the excitement, and it was almost orgasmic in its ability to obliterate me. But other times it filled me with an urge to resonate, to create something of equal beauty and send it back into the world.

I don't get those feelings as often anymore. I sometimes fear that I've consumed too much and all that excitement has fried the wires of inspiration. But other times, after working really hard on a story, I'll listen to a song and it will take me to that place again. It makes me wonder if my soul is like a beaker, and I've filled it past brimming. Only through the act of creating can I pour some of that inspiration back into the world, after which I can experience the euphoria of filling myself up again. Heh. Makes me wonder. For all the noble language, maybe creation and consumption are just an addiction. A hard won needle and a fleeting euphoria.