Drawing a line : The original situation
“You will find strength within a single line drawing”, a voice whispered. A stick made from small portions of lead, graphite and clay. It crawls across a blank sheet. The mind behind simply watches, the familiar yet distinctly different forms take shape. Just like movements of a lie detector, a truth is measured and a story revealed.
He has entered a new space. A space so fresh he fears the unfamiliarity of it, and finds himself looking at a bunch of unfinished, crude, mindless doodles. He spends hours, days, looking at them and acquires the habit of spitting thoughts out. “Spitting haikus” he calls them. A desperate attempt to find meaning from the spotless clarity of daily nonsense.
The impulsive drive finds him at a high. As he jumps from page to page, he types away on an old typewriter he inherited from his grandmother (the thought alone makes him smile)… Regardless of incorrect grammar and spelling, he attempts to carry on the tide and tries to ride on the momentum.
Many stories reveal themselves effortlessly.. he has managed to tap into a primordial void of pure thought. He demonstrates the most basic of understanding of the path he has chosen. A skill he has overlooked. He has come home. Finding meaning from spotless clarity of daily nonsense.