It’s just a draft

I stare at the blank screen and feel the anxiety to say something profound.  And nothing profound shows up.  Then I see the word “draft” up in the corner of the page and realize that I can write whatever I want and do whatever I want with it.  What I do know is that you can’t steer a car that’s parked at the curb.  Which I did as an 8 yr. old sitting in the driveway of my home behind the wheel of our old Plymouth.  I turned the wheel this way and that and convinced myself that I now knew how to drive.  When I came back in the house and proudly told my parents of this major new accomplishment they all laughed.  I think many of us have had some equivalent experience and after enough of them we decided to not only not tell anyone, but to not even get behind the wheel of the car and imagine.  I think that one of the reasons I am drawn to try this whole blogging thing is because it is a combination of imagining and actually turning on the engine.  So, Ladies and Gentlemen, Start your engines!

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4 Comments on “It’s just a draft”

  1. Suzanne Says:

    That’s how all the profound thoughts show up: you stare at the blank screen, nothing shows up, your mind wanders around untethered, and then, voila, on occasion, your associative house cat comes back with a small mouse in its mouth and drops it at your feet. You remember “learning to drive” behind the wheel of a parked car and realize it was not just one event but a metaphor for much of life.

    Vrooom, vrooom.

  2. Josh Says:

    Few things in life are scarier than a blank, white sheet of paper.

    Nice to see you’re unfazed by the challenge. Keep going!

  3. Tigerman Says:

    I was taking a painting class at UCLA extension; it had been at least a decade since I had a brush in my hand. I was paralyzed by the huge blank canvas. I mean, totally frozen. My teacher, Martin Facey, finally said, “if I come around one more time and there’s still nothing on there, I’m kicking you out of my class. Do anything!!!!!!! It doesn’t matter.” It sounded like he really meant it so I scooped up some paint and let loose a wild scribble. Martin returned and said, “OK, now react to that, then react to that and react to that.” For me, these were some of the most liberating words I ever heard.

  4. Tigerman Says:

    How come my response is titled “Your comment is awaiting modersation?” Not my words. Wuddup, doc?

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