A blank page is scary stuff! It looks at you in silence. It is a challenge. It is a voice crying out to be heard, if only you could see where it’s coming from. A character is hiding in the wings, trying to make a grand entrance, but only “you” can see him/her. Only “you” can hear the voice.
A blank page is so . . . blank, so empty, when there’s so much inside you. What do you say? Do you trust yourself. Never!
Your feelings rush to the surface to try and fill up the space. Then, everything gets cluttered, and there’s too many words. A dash of white space is comforting, silent, pleasing.
Empty is too empty. Cluttered is too wordy. Being too emotional is suspect. What do you share? Why do you care? What do you dare . . . write on the blank page . . .
Fill it, but not too full; not too sparse. Make it just right. But just right for whom?
I send my words and white space to whomever is listening.
Usually, I’m comical, silly, laughing, but not tonight. Tonight I want the white space to say as much as the words.