Yesterday I wrote a piece for my agency blog entitled “Start cultivating your creativity right now.” In that, I published an excerpt from the forthcoming book “An Illustrated Life” contributed by graphic designer, illustrator and book artist Roz Stendahl. Here are her words, which really made an impression on me:
“I love blank pages. They scream possibilities to me. They clamor for attention. They call to me from across the room while I’m trying to do other work.”
Looking back on my own experiences as a would-be writer over the years, it’s easy for me to see that my own relationship with the blank page has been challenging. Here’s a poem that I wrote in 1986, which is part of my first poetry collection.
by Roger Darnell
This portion of life,
this moment I’ve got
is the one that’s for action,
not action-packed thought.
One percent of my life
I have spent at the desk,
yet my most satisfied moments
are when I read and reminisce.
It’s too hard to believe
I can just sit down and write…
but I’m sitting down now —
New words are in sight.
If this is just as it seems
there’s no work for this gift;
just set pen to paper,
apprehensions adrift.
As it seems, so it is;
let your hopes come to pass.
What you create in a second
forms the future of your past.
Though I don’t have the exact date for this revisit to the same theme, I often think about the following poem, written circa 1988, as a sort of hurdle I have overtaken in the past; in that thought, I find the ability to move forward. This poem is part of another forthcoming collection.
by Roger Darnell
A very long time
ago I sat down to write
a poem and the blank
page stared me down.
The words, once
written, may outlast me —
could I possibly
be that smart?
The blank page won.
But another time I rushed
past the blank page to
write the inevitable —
never troubling about
my own pressure.
In that, I proved that
every second wears its own jewel;
nothing must be done —
but, whatever is done
stands a chance in this world;
and, once gone, it could be missed.
