I am in the middle of things, in media res. I am a cascading waterfall. The water is my thoughts and ideas. They keep just keep coming. There is no start line, no “once upon a time”.
The real beginning was a while ago I guess. When the writing started. Scribbles on paper from the moment I could hold a pen. Diary entries in scented glitter gel pen. Page after page of teenage drama as the smell of grapes lingered in the air. Stories adorned with WordArt on Windows 95. Thoughts saved to iPhone notes. Words coming out of my ears.
This is not refined. I would never be finished. I have, so far, never been able to look at something and say it’s “done” without thinking it could be edited, changed, or improved. I’m actually of the mind that’s how work should feel all the time. That its existence in the present means it’s something to be continually critiqued and revised as it moves into the future. Not to say that I genuinely think my work should be unforgettable for generations - ha! Haven’t shared anything yet and I’m signing you up for a lifetime commitment (and then some) into my mind. Roll up roll up. Tickets, please.
This is to say that I am embracing the unrefined. The not-quite-done, the nearly-there, the shower thoughts and forgotten scribbles. Drafting is a constant, it is present tense, perpetual. I will forever be drafting. If I don’t accept this I will be stuck in a loop of creating and never feeling ready to share anything. Somewhere between crafting and drifting, there’s drafting.
Plus, if it is all actually rubbish then I can fall back on the fact it’s *meant* to be a work in progress. It’s in the name, duh!
So, we’ve begun.
In all honesty, I’m not sure what you’re going to find here. Drafting is definitely not that my work will all be unfinished in the sense of half sentences, mind maps or drawing boards. Although never say never. What I will promise are genuine thoughts and opinion pieces. On pop culture, philosophy, art, life and death. Setting the world to rights!
I’m also not sure what I can say about consistency yet. I’d love to fully commit to a set time, day, and frequency right here right now and stick to it. I’m not sure I can deliver on that. Putting too much pressure on myself to deliver is often when I find I retreat further. Life, I’ve found, doesn’t particularly like being told to work within set timelines. This (blogging and writing publically) has been such a stop-start constantly drafting work in progress. It can only take shape without being crushed by the heavy weight of desire to succeed. It’s hard to completely ignore an overwhelming fear of failure but hey, telling everyone your work might be rubbish and that’s the point because it’s called “drafting” seems to be working well so far.
Let’s summarise.
It might not be that good and I’m not exactly sure when or how often I’ll write. Now, now, don’t all rush at once to subscribe! If nothing else (and considering you’ve made it this far) it’s safe to say you’re somewhat intrigued. Fortune favours the bold, right?
I’ve danced around and avoided the commitment of actually posting for far too long. I’ve designed a bloody logo, picked a whole colour scheme, and even created a tracker for the dates and titles of things posted (which now stands proudly at one). Tumbleweed rolls tauntingly across the screen…
I might fail. I probably will. But if I don’t try I’ll forever be ignoring what my head and heart are calling me to do: hit the fucking send button.
I leave you now with profound Ernest Hemingway philosophy -
“The first draft of anything is shit”.