When
I was younger, I always packed a pen and a notebook or at least, a sheet of
foolscap paper (somewhere down the line I switched to A4 papers for the most
part, because you could get one of these at the store round the block). Tucked
away carefully within the reach of my arms in the back of my pants pocket, I trudged
everyplace in the company of my writing tools. Even at that tender age, I’d featured
the muse was an interestingly fickle agent of the creative genius. And I set
myself up to max his erratic
tendencies.
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| Paper Weaving (Photo credit: FeatheredTar) |
Tablet
phones and the IPad have warmed themselves to the hearts of millions of writers
all around the world. These gadgets have somehow managed to ease off the burden
of having to truck with journals thanks to ever-increasing insurgence of writing
apps. Amusingly enough, I still find myself enthralled by the sight of a blank
page.
I
can’t shake the feeling that swallows me up and runs me over when I spot a
conventional notebook or a sheet of paper. My fingers become itchy and I grow
restless; paper confronts me with a throbbing nostalgia for the good times I’ve
had when I was scribbling poetry in entirely remote orbits when I was just a kid
trying to perfect my act. I don’t think I’ll ever really get over the allure
that paper has on me.
Keep
your pen bleeding.
Akpan
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