The beauty of a blank page

For a writer, a blank page can be one of the most intimidating things. If he spends 10,000 hours in becoming an expert writer, then a big chunk of it tends to be spent staring at a blank page (on the screen or otherwise).

Likewise, the first sentence of an article may be the sentence that gets rewritten the most. After all, that first sentence marks the birth of a piece of writing and the end of the frustrating existence of a blank page.

But underneath all this annoyance, there lies beauty. The blank page is a world of possibilities. Some may find that overwhelming, but I find it exhilarating.

To me a blank page is like giving a sculptor the perfect chunk of stone: What is to become of it he does not know but he surely is looking forward to the end product. He knows that the hours in the middle will be spent sweating over each stroke of his hammer on the chisel, but that is the process that makes him feel alive. When the masterpiece is complete, the world will shower him with praises (or criticisms). The sculptor may find some pleasure in that, but he will have already begun looking for the next piece of stone to sculpt.

And there lies the trick: Sometimes we forget that the blank page is not just the means to an end.

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