As some readers of this blog know, I have a pair of Black Angelfish.
Every two weeks or so, like clockwork, they lay about a 100 eggs, guard them till the babies hatch, hover around the hatchlings still attached to the leaves, try to carry them in their mouths and keep them safe once the babies are free-swimming. Only about 50 babies are left at this stage.
Then for the next three days, they do their best to sustain the babies, which dwindle from 50 to 25 to 10 to 5 to zero. This is because I don’t know what to feed the babies— am both scared of, and don’t know how to, breed mosquito larvae, which is their food.
A day after the last baby has disappeared, the angels are at each other, kissing, fluttering, chasing, back at the mating game. A day later there are eggs again.
I wonder if they remember their babies. I know they are capable of some kind of association/ memory, because they know when I’m around and come begging for food, and dance around like mad puppies when I have the food box in my hand.
I no longer know how to feel about the regular births and deaths.
But I’ve learned the passion of creation by their example: write like mad, polish them like mad, submit like mad, and even if the babies come to nothing, set about making my writing babies again.
And just like with the angelfish babies, rejoice that they lived and swam free, at least for a while.
Who knows, maybe someday, one of the angelfish babies would survive. It would become more than a tiny tadpole, actually grow fins and swim at large.
In the meanwhile, what I and my angelfish can do is create, with passion and commitment. Results be damned.
Maybe there’s a place you could buy their food? I wouldn’t want to raise mosquito larvae either!
I’ve tried, but nothings works,really.
I’m sure there’s somewhere you can buy their food too.
Great post about persistence.
I did try, Liquifry and what not, but the babies die anyway.
There has to be Angel Food baby somwhere. Def check online.
bur..amazing how the lessons we learn can come from anywhere
yes, life has lessons for us everywhere. Thanks for stopping by, Stu, despite your situation right now.
Funny, that’s pretty much what I blogged about last week. http://www.tobyneal.net/2011/11/03/managing-the-risks-of-creativity/
Great vid from E. Gilbert about the risks of the next book. I don’t know if I could keep watching that. But I DO have a lot of mosquito larvae in my little pond you could have!
Aloha
Toby
Thanks, will go check the link
Poor angelfish. But what a terrific analogy to writing! Personally though, I hope to find some mosquito larvae for my babies…speaking of which, what do these mosquito larvae symbolise? Don’t think agents would appreciate being likened to mosquito larvae…
Mosquito larvae is the ingredient that makes writing shine….and I wish I knew in a word what that is
Wonderful life lesson learned at your fingertips. Often the best lessons in life come from what is in front of our eyes everyday. Great post.
Thanks, Cath, and welcome to my blog!
Loved this one. But you don’t have to feed them mosquito larvae – they thrive on brine shrimp. Here’s a good article – and the best part is you can use the olives in cooking!
Brine shrimp for angel fish
Thanks for the link. Might give brine shrimp breeding a go, because the fry obviously don’t like frozen brine shrimp!
Loved your post and analogy to writing.
Thanks Cheryl, for stopping by, and for commenting.
My paintings and drawings are like angel fish babies . All of us reinvent and or energy flows to the universe .
Thomas, totally agree. Welcome to my blog.
I feel the same way about all of my creative work. Beautiful post Damyanti!
Thanks Shannon
I love reading this post, it’s quite inspiring – never give up – a great lesson.
Christine, I guess we writers have to just go on
A sad picture, but a compelling analogy. Well done, Damyanti!
Thanks Allan. As I type this, the Angels are watching over another brood. It is heartbreaking sometimes.
I love this!
Thanks, Kate!
An unusual piece and interesting analogy. My first novel, Maud’s House, is about the compulsion to create. We all have this insane desire to leave our mark. Thank goodness.
Welcome to my blog, Sherry, and yes, thank goodness.
Hey Damu, like your writing style alot and going through your blog.
Do keep posting links on FB.
Thanks for dropping by, Irene. Sure, I keep posting links to my blogs!
That is a pretty good analogy
Keep going at it with passion and commitment. Results be damned… I like it 
Especially the part where I get to hope that one of the baby fishies will survive one day!
Rachel, yes, we all live on hope. But to me, the Results be damned part is very important.
I have a suspicion you sort of knew and practiced this before the angelfish confirmed it, Damyanti. Your passion and indefatigable spirit shows in everything you do.
Wish you all the very best with everything.
Maybe for a piece of writing, the difference between life and death is that little extra time we give it, that willingness to edit and revise once more. I think most written works — even those destined to be considered masterpieces — go through a fragile, tenuous time when it seems as though there’s nothing much there worth saving. The thing is, we almost never see these stages of development with anyone else’s work; we see only the full-grown angelfish, the ones that have survived.
I understand all too well the self-doubt you struggle with, Damyanti. But your aquarium is filling with masterpieces. Don’t ever give up.
I really loved this little story. A very fitting comparison to what many of us writers go through when we create our little ‘babies.’
When I read this I felt connected to your fish too. We all must continue to create because in each of us is a piece of the creator.
Most Angelfish never have the chance to pair off and breed in a home aquarium, so be proud that you give them such a good home that they will do that. I have some adult pairs that do the same thing,and it is heartbreaking, but one day soon I will have a separate tank ready for the babies, AND a brine shrimp hatchery, and it will make up for all those lost babies. That’s nature.