Some days I have no idea what I am doing, here in my little studio at ‘The Lighthouse’.
Today is such a day.
Recognising a certain state of lostness, a certain searching for an orderly state of things, I am reaching into the not knowing, the state of disorderly imperfection – in the wisdom that this chaos is part of the state of being.
Part of the human condition, if you like. I like. I don’t like. Things is as they is. Isn’t it.
This is my studio table. Sifting through the abundance and taking to pen and paper has brought me to the state of handwriting.
Do you still write? By hand. With a pen? On paper?
Is handwriting a dying art?
As a child I learned to write with pen and ink. Beautiful pens and beautiful ink. Slanted nibs and ink pots. I learned to write calligraphic Sanskrit (long story). I miss it… that practice. The unwavering eye on the nib, wet ink on page, the tiny details of the emerging script. Focus.
So in the chaotic moments that litter a self directed independent creative journey, the storms amidst the calm, I fancy a commitment to pen and ink as part of my daily practice. Streams of non-sense thought, typographic embellishments to decorate my studio with, penned letters to loved ones and signatures by fictitious characters.
So here’s to pen and ink…..
…and to the art of embracing imperfection.