I never have a pencil to hand. This can cause problems, especially when I get an idea. Be it for a painting, a story, or what to eat for dinner, when I get an idea I like to write it down. On anything I can find, with any snub of lead within shouting distance. (Pens and I aren’t friends – they burble and smear all over my clawed left hand as I write. Better the soft smudge of a pencil.)
So I scribble whatever thought is fighting to come out on envelopes. Napkins. Magazine covers. The back of my hand (that is with a pen). I have many idea collections, in boxes, in drawers, in the very envelopes I’ve written upon, all full of little sketches, scratches and random sentences.
I also have numerous journals, started with only the best intentions. After all – what is more inspiring or daunting than that expanse of creamy blank page, with nothing but possibility between me and making something awesome! Yes and yes. THIS will be the book that I fill with rough raw beauty. I’ll take it everywhere with me, haul it out at awkward moments to jot down something brilliant because I simply CAN’T STOP the inspiration. I’ll cover every page with all those possibilities realized!
But I have a problem. I have cross-pollination between my to-do scraps and the sacred sketchbook. Shopping lists inevitably worm their way onto the soft, heavy, acid-free pages. Doctor appointments. Movie times. Directions to the nearest Trader Joe’s. And the book is somehow ruined. Relegated to an expensive Post-It pad. And I can’t seem to pick up that imaginative momentum once “clean up cat litter” is scuffed in shitty blue ballpoint across the fourth or fifth page. Hell, no! Time to purchase another book, waiting with those creamy blank pages…. all while the occasional worthy idea is hurriedly drawn on the back of a receipt and ends up crushed at the bottom of my pocket.
A fat lot of good all this does me.
WHAT I’M TRYING TO SAY is that maybe this thing, here, pixels, online, stupid computer, stupid obsessive internet, is where I can collect all the worthy scribbles and perhaps make some sense of my stuttering creativity. Despite the fact that the envelopes and napkins and the back of my right hand will still be the initial recipients – but here perhaps I can distill them into something worth working on, rather than have all these ideas gather dust in a drawer. Maybe this will motivate me. A cure for laziness? A cause for getting something DONE. Maybe this is just a more cohesive storage option.
I haven’t got any more drawers to put the pieces of paper in, anyway, and I’m tired of buying new sketchbooks. And I can NEVER find a pencil. So hey – welcome to my brain. Enjoy.
Or maybe it’s simply another vehicle for self-obsession. Can someone kill Facebook for me?