Blankness

Blankness can be daunting and, for some artists, a terrifying thing. Many people make random marks on a canvas or drawing page before actually beginning in order to break up the endless white. The fear of ‘stuffing it up’ is sometimes most acute when one has a pristine, and possibly costly, surface. I certainly have those feelings at times, especially if the work is targeted towards a specific endpoint and is, therefore, ‘important’.

I also get very enthusiastic, though, about the potential – the almost endless possibilities that exist. There is so much that can result. I buy most of my canvas on a twenty-five metre roll. That is my favourite art purchase, despite the fact it’s so heavy I can only drag it! That is a lot of blank canvas and a whole world of excitement.

For writers, a blank page has a similar dichotomy. A white sheet, or empty screen, can have a paralysing effect and yet, on the other side of the creative coin, it dictates nothing. It provides no constraints to ideas. Anything is possible and valuable.

The beginning is hard, as with almost everything we do, but the potential is great. When we burst, or even tiptoe, through the inertia and fear, we can make great things.

Until later,

Kirsten