I have visited my blog a few times over the past few days and sat with anticipation for the waves of creativity to wash over my mind and amazing cyber literature to pour from my fingers like paints from brush to canvas. However, instead of the inspiring site of a computerized michaelango to his sisteen e-chapel, I find myself stuck in the molasses swamp of writers block waiting for my turn to head for the candy castle.
I often find the cure for writers block is to start writing the most random things....stories, ideas, etc.. anything to get the mind working. Writing about writers block, as ironic as it is, actually frees up some creative neurons. So....for the two of you who may see this post..... here we go.
Mosh Pits........
I experienced my first this last week at a concert at the University of Utah. The bands were shiny toy guns and hello goodbye. Now I have been to a few concerts and I understand the desire to try and force your body into a group that is so close it's water tight. I found myself in the middle of one of these groups and learned very quickly that you surrender your will and freedom of movement to the collective once your inside. When the group jumps....you jump, when they sway....you sway.
I also learned that when you pack 4,500 students into the space of a 2 liter sprite bottle, there arises a faint smell of miracle whip mixed with marijuana......maybe that's a u of u specific, i don't know. Either way it's slightly nauseating.
After inhaling this scent for a moment or so I decided I needed oxygen that didn't smell like it had come off a snoop dogg sandwich. Well, the only way to find this oxygen is to find an open spot in the crowd.
Necessity is the mother of invention and I believe it was the necessity for breathable air that invented the mosh pit. The cost of air is steep at a concert though. 3 hits to the face....I think my kidney was stolen....but i could breathe.
