I am being tormented this week by my dismal lack of upkeep on writing related notes. A year. Two. Piles of scraps slowly accumulate.
The thought did come up to just toss every pile, without care. I was so close. But then, what if my best ideas were in this pile? The one. So if I am asked to write a paper describing what I did on my summer vacation (unlikely, but possible) the truth’ll be right here. Each and every scrap scrutinized for decipherable ideas.
Some people think in organized fashion. I, although organized, think like a pinball. Ding, ding. ding. My idea bounces from one brain cell to another. Writing on little scraps wastes my time it would seem. There is less time for real writing I chide myself . Ding. Ding. Most notes curve this way and that. No logical columns. Circular notes. Partial words and phrases. Ding.
But when the ball settles squarely against the flipper, impact! And so it is with my ideas. Ding. Ding. Almost. Ding. Ahh! I have it, and I am ready. Is this a hassle? You betcha. Will I change? Unlikely. My drawer groans beneath the weight of various journals. Beautiful and functional. But… they lack the siren song of impulse, the surface of a random napkin or receipt. Part of creativity might just be process of scraps. Tossing the unusable. Savoring what is left.