Fresh Beginning

A sheaf of clean notebook paper, all squared up.

A loose-leaf notebook, divided into sections, one for each subject.

A dozen sharpened yellow #2 pencils, all pointing in the same direction.*

A few Bic pens, with clear plastic barrels, so you can watch the ink slowly disappear over the weeks.**

A pink eraser, a steel single-hole holepunch, a wood ruler with a metal straightedge.

A box of crayons, a box of colored pencils.

Spiral notebooks, in a variety of colors.

Composition notebooks with black-marbled covers.

 

Who doesn't like brand-spanking-new school supplies? The sight, the smell, the feel.

They signal a fresh beginning--to the school year, to the creative process, to possibilities as yet unimagined.

I don't recall looking forward to the actual classes beginning, but I sure liked having an assortment of pristine school supplies.

I still do.

On the shelves of my office sit unopened reams of paper, boxes of pencils and pens, unused spiral notebooks. File folders and envelopes and binder clips. All just waiting for my creative juices to start running.

Of course, I don't have much use anymore for filler paper and loose-leaf notebooks. Now, the only notebook I open up is my Toshiba.

But I still get the same surge of excitement when I call up a blank Word document to begin a new project.

And that's what I'm doing this week--starting a new project.

Oh, the possibilities!

 

Footnotes
*Few smells are as distinctive as fresh pencil shavings.

**If you remove the tube of ink from the pen, the plastic barrels make great spitball launchers. I did plenty of research as a lad. Sorry, Mrs. Hubbs!

 

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