Start with a blank piece of paper

The possibilities are endless, but you only need one.

The blank page, the empty piece of paper, the clean slate.

A great chasm where maybe there should be words, pictures, experiences.

A void, waiting to be filled.

Nothing renders the writer or artist both paralysed by fear and galvanised by possibility as the blinking cursor, the unopened acrylics.

Too often, the former wins and we retreat, hide, take refuge from the daunting task of stitching something out of nothing, of entering the desert with no guarantee of rain.

But if the fears always won, what would we have? Bleached and flattened wood pulp, piled into stacks and sitting on shelves…waiting.

Once a blank page…

To-do lists, photographs, life-changing plans, mind-maps and diagrams, paintings and newspapers.

Lyrics turned into songs, notes composed and turned into orchestras.

Mathematics equations, altering our understanding of the Universe.

Once-empty journals, now filled with doodles, appointments and the humdrum details that make a life.

Quickly-scribbled love notes, stuffed — forgotten? — in your wallet.

Birth, death and marriage certs…

Sketches of every building, bridge, machine, dress, accessory or bit of furniture — from the Duomo to your desk.

Love letters, tucked safely and sealed in envelopes, mailed across the world, or postcards — “wish you were here” — pinned to the fridge with a magnet.

Never-mind every book we’ve ever read, every library full.

Everything — our favourite novels and songs, the art we love, the memories we record

were once fluttering bits of paper

until someone, somewhere,

picked up a pen

beckoned an idea

and began.

So please, my love, just begin.

Think of all of the things that were once just blank pieces of paper, that now hold more meaning. What are the first five that spring to mind? What do they represent to you?

Use this as an impetus to get to work, to begin something new, or to finally do what you’re always saying you’re going to do!

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