Ever had a story you just couldn't tell? I don't mean gossip. I mean a story sitting in your head, but you just can't seem to get it down on paper the way you want to. I used to go through this with art. I could see the image clearly in my head, but what wound on paper was always a far cry from the image in my mind.
At least with writing , it's a sense of what the story is to be and not an exact replica. I have freedom to take the seed of an idea and grow it on paper. But what about those seeds that turn into a fully bloomed flower in your mind? You write and write and worry whether or not the words pouring on the page do a fair representation of what your mind has created. With art you always had a pictoral representation to judge. With writing you have words which, to you, may portray exactly what you want, but to another, not so much.
I guess art can be as subjective as writing. What we feel is a masterpiece may be hailed worthless trash by a random critic or doofis. (Hey, you call my art trash, you're a doofis.) But at some point I think we have to trust the creative process and recognize it as God's gift. He's the ultimate creator, and we are made in his image, to create, to love, to grow. That's a hard place to get to. Our egos tend to get in the way.
The struggle is imminently present. How do I get the words on the page, and how do I know they are the best they can be? I can worry myself in circles with this and write not a single word. See the vicious circle? Could this be what is called writer's block? I don't know.
I do know the page is there, and it's not blank. I'm pushing through it, putting words to the page. They may not be grand, but they at least eliminate some of that glaring white space.