I am a firm believer in Morning Pages but that doesn’t mean I use them all the time. Though it felt like a really long time since I had last drawn/painted anything (it probably wasn’t as long as it felt) and I was beginning to feel to quite anxious about starting anything. In truth I was scared to start anything in case it turned out to be awful, in case it revealed me to be the complete hack I think I am.
I sat down at a desk at my local library and told myself I’d just scribble. Scribbling has been a catalyst throughout different times in my life, something about the movement of a pen or pencil with or without conscious thought, without or without something obvious to say, leads to other things.
Over the course of two pages I found I had written the same name five times. Someone I used to know… And a flood of memories returned to me in that instance. Little things imbued with funny meanings that would be lost on the casual observer. I remembered that person’s obsession with Grain Wave chips. I remembered that Timezone photo booth we got our photo taken in. I remembered silly little things that were said. I remembered the in flight radio station I listened to on the flight home.
I think I was so preoccupied with moving on that I had never really stock of what actually transpired.
At any rate I felt this great need to draw this person. So I did. I won’t share it here (or anywhere really) because I doubt this person would appreciate me drawing me and I am no longer in contact with them to ask permission. But the point is I am drawing again and it feels good.