Inspiration in the Abyss

There is no where else I would rather be than taking photographs; capturing the moments in time that define us, the beauty that is usually unseen, the life that is all around us. I could spend forever with a camera lens in front of my face and my photos lining the halls of my home. Therein lies my problem...

When I have the chance to take my camera from its place and allow it to do what it does best, I opt not to. I come to it with inspiration oozing out of my pores, but the minute I click the shutter, I become completely uninspired by what surrounds me.

The same thing happens when I put a paintbrush in my hand. The distance from the brush to the canvas seems like an eternity. And somewhere in that abyss, I become disenchanted by my ideas.

I've done some great work when I've managed to overcome those hurdles, but more and more I can't seem to create like I used to. There are a million ideas for photographs and for more in my head. But it seems the connection between my head and my hands has somehow been disabled.

The photos in my head are equisite, but risky for my tastes. And the paintings are full of textures, glass, and henna tattoos. Why can't I find the ability to execute my visions?