About a year ago, I took this photo. I was testing out the settings on my camera and this happened to be the setup on my desk. It would eventually become one of my most-downloaded photos on Unsplash with nearly 15,000 downloads.
Oddly enough, I didn’t use those pencils for a fair while. They sat in a cup, regal with their pink nubs and green bands. I was filling up pages of notebooks with my Sharpie pens, and going to pencil proved rather jarring.
I keep a small notepad on my desk to scratch out copy lines before I commit stuff to clients for review. There’s no mistaking the necessity of handwriting when it comes to higher-level thinking. Most worthwhile drafts are handwritten. Most good ideas start as something jotted down on a whim. I began to make initial drafts with pencils because there is something rather astounding about the feeling of something scratching out on a piece of paper.
Pencils also proved to be a better bedfellow while I have my Sunday mornings in bed with journals and the newspaper. It wasn’t long before the wife pointed out that the tip of my pen was bleeding into the bedsheets. Pencils, while capable of leaving a mark, are far less subject to criticism in the bedroom.
Writing would be great if it weren’t the only thing I knew how to do.
I publish as much as I can, you’ll just have to wait for the rest.