Slow brain.
Aching back.
Chores.
Errands.
No good ideas.

These kind of obstructions don’t prompt me to write. Where is my Lars von Trier daring me to overcome impossible constraints to create beautiful things? He’s like a fairy godmother for artists. Instead of a mice-fabricated gown and a tricked out squash, Trier bestows absurd rules and distasteful challenges on his former mentor Jorgen Leth. Trier’s plan is to berate and coerce Leth out of “his Haiti depression” by forcing Leth to examinine himself through the five films he makes during the course of the documentary.

External motivation is a great gift. I’m a sucker for it. Give me deadlines and standards and a list of what not to do and I’m relieved. I can relax in the knowledge that I know what needs to come next. It’s soothing to  have a stream of tasks that I can riff on to come up with the next clever solution.

But it’s the laziness in me that wants it. I need to come up with both the problem and the solution.