There’s something so beckoning about a blank slate; whether it’s a canvas, a white board, a piece of paper or a digital notebook. Somehow, I take comfort in opening my document and spilling whatever is in my head onto the page. My fingertips fly over the keys, tapping the keys so fast that I hardly even notice it anymore. Sometimes I’ll take a moment, and pause; reflecting in thought and concentration. Typically I’ll have music on, as there’s something about the rhythm of a song that entices me to continue and inspires me with the lyrics. Sometimes I’ll stop writing to sing out loud, when a moment strikes or a certain emotion hits. I love it. Somehow, I almost live for it. Hundreds of thousands of words falling together on a page to tell a story; to speak an emotion to the reader that potentially will never be forgotten.
I also find it interesting that I’ll sit down to write about a topic, and find the words fall out of my head on something else entirely. As if they are so eager to be read that they shove the other words who were waiting patiently out of the way. Sometimes to be briefly forgotten about entirely.