Pencils

 I remember life before personal computers and mobile phones.  Maybe that is why I love pencils.  In the days before word processors (and backspace), my thoughts were collected letter by letter, line by line.  Writing by hand was slow enough that I could usually edit my thoughts before they reached the page.  The commitment of words on the paper was sufficient motivation to continue building on the foundation I started with, but having a good eraser on hand was comfort enough to me to override my desire for perfection and start creating without knowing the direction or quality of the end result.  (Come to think of it, given a choice, I will seldom use a pencil without an eraser.)  With a pencil, I am free to create.  In contrast, this post has no evidence of my many starts and edits just to think of a topic to write about.  With the backspace it is as if it never existed.  Unlike writing by hand, it is easier to delete than create, so I find most of what I spend time writing is gone without a trace, and no incentive to keep it and explore where those thoughts would have led.

My pencils have entertained me through many hours of church meetings.  I notice that a persistent lack of floral arrangements has shifted my purpose from drawing to note-taking, but in either case the end result is as much my own creation as it is representative of the original subject.  On long, hot summer days, a pencil was as good company outside as a book was inside.

So why am I nostalgic about pencils today?  It is a symbol representing creation for me. I have been through a normal share of life events recently that have left me feeling disconnected from my routines and purpose.  I have found I feel more alive and engaged with life when I create.   While some people create with objects, manipulating colors or textures until they are satisfied, my creations usually begin as fleeting thoughts which need to be captured before they escape or nurtured word by word until they take form.