Realizing Something Obvious (Apr. 6 '25)
I've been struggling to write at all – both here at the blog and even journaling – let alone producing anything creative or academic. Part of this is due to the difficulty of quieting my mind given everything that's going on. That's expected. But I had a really kind of obvious realization yesterday: part of why I'm struggling is that I spend all day working at a computer. The last thing I want to do is spend more time at my laptop. And when I do open it up to try to write, there's always something more to do – a bill to pay, an email to send – some form of digital entropy to fight. Even if I manage to close all other windows and only have my document open, I can't focus on what's right there. I'm tired by the screen.
I love my study – I've made the space I've always wanted that's crammed full of books, craft materials, artwork by friends – even a chaise longue. I like my writing desk with the craft cart next to it that's stuffed with paint pens, markers, colored paper, embroidery floss, small tools of all sorts. My study only lacks a door, but that's mostly all right.
The thing is: I somehow forgot how much I love materiality. This is why I have so many craft tools and notebooks and pens. I spent my school, college, and grad school years writing in notebooks that I still have, although at some point, I think during my MFA, I switched to composing at the computer because I needed to quickly produce so much material.
But I first assembled my dissertation via notecards (the image above is of my desk in Lausanne). I physically worked out my argument. Even my S.M. thesis at MIT began with notecards. This is my academic writing process, and while I've taken moments to work on plot via sticky notes, I haven't been writing as much by hand as I used to. And my mind works differently when I put pen to paper.
Yesterday, I kept my notebook next to me all day, and I wrote so much. I had it with me while reading and – again – got some unexpected and interesting ideas on the page. It felt good. I was engaged in a way that I haven't been since completing my dissertation.
The past few weeks have been quieter – M is between soccer seasons, and I didn't have as many events on my calendar – and this undoubtedly helped, as well. But composing in a notebook is a pleasure – slow and focused – and a much needed break from the tedium (and tyranny) of the screen.
