There’s a small garden behind the kitchen, fringed with ceramic cows. The earth is rich with characters and concepts. You can dig them up with a trowel, like potatoes.
Poems, on the other hand, are plucked from the branches of a tall tree in the front yard. You need a ladder for the best ones (or a giraffe).
Mostly they sneak up from behind and tap you on the shoulder when you’re thinking about something else.
At the top of the rickety stairs, the dusty attic is filled with papers, tended by a solemn man. When you need an idea, he’ll hand you one wordlessly.
There’s a service you can subscribe to – based in Estonia and recommended by Andres Ehin. Ideas are delivered weekly – dropped down the chimney by carrier pigeon.
You need the skill of holding your breath under water – dive down deep into the still lake. A wooden chest sits on the silty bottom. If you can open it (and only the chosen can), every idea you’ll ever need will be inside.