Which comes first, the feeling or the creative impulse? The feeling, you might think, to drive the creativity, the big emotional beast of flurry always searching for an outlet. But the outlet, I think, is also an input, a place to plug in, peer inside, draw from the great store of residue and irresolution of life's emotional events.

The bird, the egg. Egg the art, the creative expulsion that hatches more flitterings of feelings, little birds that demand expression. You cannot ask whether the chicken or the egg came first; neither could exist without the other.

This is my entry for the #monomad challenge, held daily in the Black and White Community.
Give it a try.

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