The tools have changed, but the process hasn’t. You sit, an empty page in front, whether it’s pixels or paper or parchment, and you fill it with feelings, with emotion, with life. There is magic here. Real magic.
The world quietly asleep outside the window, the clickity-clack of the keyboard, whatever music I’ve got on – chill, classical, lounge – and the white of the screen slowly filling.
You dive deeper, you strip away the cleverness and the words become more important than your ego and that’s when you know it’s real, when it’s good. Light spreads out over the hills, dawn comes and passes, and a new day begins.
The feeling of when you step away, finished, and you look at the page and you know you tapped into something bigger than yourself to produce this, that feeling is, dare I say, spiritual.