Creative Processes

Date Arrow  January 24, 2008

It always start with a white space, like this blog post.

It could happen on a sheet of paper, or lately an empty <textarea>, but the feeling is the same. You get the first flow of ideas, rushing through your head. That’s why I always have a small Moleskine notebook in my pocket; you never know when these things will happen, how long they will last, and when you’ll have another one. Paper has an obvious advantage on computers: you do not need electricity.

I do not “have” an idea; the idea has me. It comes, and then it goes. My task is to write it down, or let it go. I choose.

Jadis you would have started writing in the old-fashioned way; pen, pencil, paper, but the keyboard has got our attention. It’s a different feeling; before, just one hand was to held responsible for my stuff; now it’s every one of my fingers. Simultaneously. It has an advantage, which is to make things go faster. I can write faster, almost as fast as I think. But I need electricity, though.

I can create not only texts but also code. I can later make that code run on the computer, on mine or even on yours. I can talk to those computer, to make them do what I want. We’re new wizards, in a world that would turn crazy any 16th century man. We talk to the machine, and it answers us.

Then I go back, I erase, I reorder paragraphs, I re-read, I spellcheck, I smile, sometimes I tear off the page and start from scratch (the equivalent of selecting “Edition / Select All” & hitting the delete key).

Sometimes I publish, sometimes you read me. There is a nice randomness in all of this, and I clearly enjoy it. Thanks for being there.

Similar Posts:

Tagged   Uncategorized

2 Comments

  • #1.   David Camacho
    01.27.2008

    It’s so important to stop and reflect on the medium from time to time. I’m reminded of the thinking machine in William Gibson’s Count Zero, using mechanical arms to assemble lovely new things from the detritus floating by.

  • #2.   adrian
    01.28.2008

    Thanks for your comment David.
    There’s always that step back to look at the canvas, close your eyes, and thank life for those moments of creation. And keep on painting, of course.

Commenting