Some musings
A single blank page is the scariest thing in the world.....
On one hand, it's infinite freedom. A complete blank canvas ready to take on whatever the artist wants. An undiscovered masterpiece, a confession, a dream, a mirror into the soul of the artist. It can be anything.
On the other hand, the infinite nature of the blank page is also its worst aspect. It is nothing. Until there is something on the page, there may never be anything on the page. What if it stays empty forever? What if it's never filled with something good enough?
Unlimited potential also means unlimited potential for failure, and therein lies the problem.
Like Schroedinger's cat, until the page is filled, it has the potential to be ultimate success or abject failure, both alive and dead at the same time. This is both the best thing I've ever written and the worst thing I'll ever write.
As someone who is seriously dabbling in creative endeavours for the first time in years, it scares the hell out of me.
All my ideas are in my head, and yet the boundless nature of the blank page is holding me back.
I don't know how to convince other people that my work is worth reading when I struggle to write it myself. Right now, I have four drafts of stories sitting waiting for me to revisit. Just when I'm happy with them, I start to tweak and change, and then I'm writing more and more, never knowing when to stop. Never knowing when is enough.
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