I love staring at a blank screen. All is possible. Nothing is forbidden. The possibility and potential is there for a masterpiece.
The problem begins when the first letter is typed. As the entry progresses the possibilities constrict and whether or not its potential is reached can soon be judged.
Therein lies the problem with the blank screen: while it begs to be filled, by the very act of filling it loses its innocence and power.
From the same blank screen come masterpieces and utter filth. It isnt the medium that is to blame, it is the seer who channels and brings about the birth of frankincense or Frankenstein.
Soon the love, the innocence, the potential drain away and the writer / reader is faced with a challenge: to finish the work or start over.
Too many screens go unsaved. Too many changes need to be made. Too much can no longer be realized. The dreamed of masterpiece refuses to materialize. So the author scraps the page and begins again with a new one. This one to will soon join its brother… but for now all is possible.
Such is a life.
Oh, to have a patient writer … with a backspace button.
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