Chasing metaphoric shadows

So, a few weeks ago, I had a brief flicker of understanding regarding Mari and Seth from Project #3.

The night I got home from my vacation, I only got a couple hours sleep because strange thoughts kept circling around. There was nothing specific, no opening of the heavens, no eureka moment, in fact nothing about this story was in the foreground of my brain.

All I know is I woke up Saturday morning and wanted to write. Had to write. Didn't even know what story I was going to work on, or if words would even come out, but there was a clog in my head and I knew if I didn't get it out, I would have an aneurysm (no, not literally). It's like there's a lot of white noise in my head... does that make sense?

So, I mulled over which story to open, and ended up choosing Project #3. Still with no idea where I was going, I just started writing and 883 words into a new scene, a jumble of pieces suddenly fell into place.

And I felt like hitting myself in the head and going, 'Duh'. Why do numbers and colours always have such significance in my stories? I *know* things are specific colours or numbers with such certainty, yet I have to trust that things will make sense later... when I write one more chapter, one more scene, one more sentence. I didn't know why Seth's glasses and Mari's pig-tails are so important. Two and two. Duh and duh. Mari's dress is red, her hair is yellow, Seth wears all grey clothes. Red, yellow, grey. Duh, duh, duh.

From the very beginning, Seth and Mari's appearances were lit up, like in Technicolor, even though I had no clue what the main character looked like, and still don't.

I feel like I'm chasing shadows in my head. The words that come out on the page are what happens when I race after an elusive silhouette and try to figure out why it looks familiar, why I feel like I should know what it is and where it came from... and only after a marathon, do I recognize it. The shape of my own head, my own brain, my own body. The numbers I see the world in, the colours that stain my own memories.

Duh.

<slaps self upside the head>

Duh.

Okay, back to writing. When the writing is done, the white noise in my head will stop and I'll be able to sleep again... for now...