Sometimes it’s just not there. My fingers clutch the bottom of the pen threatening a page baring empty lines, and on instinct, a date is jotted down making it an imperative that something, anything must be written tonight. I have found that the keyboard only worsens my all too often writer’s block. The very instant my hand starts to glide across the paper creating curved lines that produce a connecting pattern of verses my mind shifts gears and like clockwork words begin to flow. Staring at a blinding screen with my fingers in limbo takes away from the power of creation of art.
July 30, 1999