There is nothing scarier than a blank page. You sit and stare at it willing yourself to think of something creative to write, draw, or paint on its stark pages.
I’m back at the drawing board, sitting next to you, struggling to make sense of the picture in my head.
I seem to becoming back to this place a lot lately. My drawing gets so far, and then gets erased, only to leave that page, mockingly waiting for my next move. I don’t know the next move.
that’s OK. I don’t need too. All we both need to know is that we can make mistakes. We can mess up the page so all the white is gone, filling every available space with mistakes. The beauty of sitting at the drawing board is that there is always an eraser.
Make a mistake, rub it out, pick up the pencil and start all over again.
I see you there sitting next to me.
Welcome back to the drawing board.
NB. I turn 26 tomorrow. When did I become a grown up?