Mental Lip Movements and My Corresponding Creativity

I am smiling with gratification. I love this feeling - love knowing. Right now, I am pretty content. But
Complacency stints creativity. Maybe that assertion is only applicable to me, though. Thoreau wrote Walden in his isolated leisure. Monet painted waterlilies and haystacks on rambling walks through his garden and its surrounding countryside. However, I suppose that peaceful environments cannot inherently imply complacency. For me, Spring City does (though I can think of a time when it didn't). Perhaps Thoreau and Monet, despite their transient situations of seeming idyllicism, were not really content during these creative periods. I know that, though I do feel content regarding many things at the moment (especially as I am in Spring City anticipating a feast of Thanksgiving), I am dissatisfied with this post. It's a sneaky sort of dissatisfaction - a bit of doubt: a mental biting of the lips. Maybe contentment has little to do with creative output. I do believe, though, that if one is sufficiently content with mediocrity (what is that really anyway?) and with lethargy, their output will be existent, at best. On those days (almost like today) when I am quite complacent, my creative output is minimal. And I suppose I am mostly satisfied with that, except for my bit mental lip. In a few hours though, or perhaps tomorrow, I will do or write a flurry of things - assuaging my wilted output, curving these bitten lips into a gratuitous smile of ephemeral gratification; reinstigating the cycle.