I spend my days online, blinking, wavering pixilated screens blasting my eyes to fatigue and my brain to a near seizure state. The ease of communicating online is both its biggest selling feature, and its biggest detraction. For some reason, a blank screen is fraught with danger.
But a blank page and a full pen, therein lies a whole world of possibility. A blank page calls out for the writer in me, for the cool pressure of hand on paper and the scritch scritch scritch of a ball point pen. A blank page can become a story or a sketch, it can hold dreams and secrets. Writing with pen and paper is an act of comfort and creation.
I wonder why I don't do it more.
I still carry a small notebook in my purse. And a pen. Often times, if I get inspired, or get an idea for a story or a character, I jot it down. Other times, I just write. Most of it is not any good. But I write anyway. I miss the worn paper, the scratch outs, the arrows going every which way from all my "editing" ---- While I am glad for the instant-cy (i know it's not a word)of the computer, I will always love the pen and paper and all the possibilities...
ReplyDeleteI keep a small stack of journals by my bed, some abandoned mid-stream because I found a prettier one. They serve the same purpose for me, though it's been a while since I had one that fit in my purse. Perhaps it's time.
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