A White Page

That’s all there is. That blank sheet of paper staring back at me. Sometimes I see a little horned devil, smiling, knowing the only way to cover him up is with words. Words that have no meaning- or rhyme or reasoning.

Is reasoning the key? Get my intuition happening and listen to my rational mind. Nope.  I discovered some time ago, my rational mind sucks. I assume my rational mind will give me truth, because after all, our society bows to the rational mind.

The white, blank page knows that my rationality drains all the fascinating, juicy, exciting, interesting things to write about. I leave the rational mind behind, and my intuition returns which I need to uncover words. Then the little horned smiley-faced devil disappears.

Michelangelo looked at a block of blank white marble and somehow he saw a large muscular man with a peculiar little penis.  My devil on the blank white page isn’t even horny-just horned.

This is a regular occurrence for anyone writing a blog, a poem, a memoir, or a novel. It’s usually called writers’ block. It’s a strange feeling that says, “Maybe you’ve written every word, story, scene and memory that’s in your internal hard-drive. There are no more words.”

sleepy writer

But you learn to ignore those feelings. It’s that old rational mind again. That mind that wants to be perfect.

I realized this past weekend I’m sitting at a clean, organized un-cluttered desk. Last week I did the ritual. It had probably been a year or more. I cleaned my desk off. What a mistake. A messy clutter has hidden treasures-notes, ideas, unpaid bills, old business cards- a life being lived- not a tidy suspended animation of held breath. Clutter is rich with words and forgotten memories.

Then, with new mail, new magazines, honey-do lists, a bit of clutter returns. It only takes a few days to find new words, recall old memories. Paragraph by paragraph my strange made-up characters come to life again. I discover I’m not just making things up. I’m writing about you, or maybe you, or me. I understand if I’m not writing nice things about you, maybe you should have behaved better.

About bakoheat

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2 Responses to A White Page

  1. Mary says:

    I have the other problem. I can’t seem to find the time to face the blank paper so I walk around with all the ideas swirling and no place to put them. It does make the job rather easy when I do sit down to write though.

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