I took my son to the doctor’s office for a checkup today. He is a busy child, and at almost 9, he never stops moving – it seems. In an effort to help him hold still for a few minutes, we played “I spy.” The best one I had for him, and the best one he had for me both started with: “I spy with my little eye, something white.” In my case, I spotted the nondescript paper towels. He had spotted some (mostly hidden) pieces of paper.
Now here I am, a few hours later, and I am playing the game all over again – at least the writer’s version of it. I spy with my little eye something white – it’s called a blank computer screen. A couple of decades ago, it would have been a blank piece of paper. Either way, it’s just white, and yet it’s intimidating and daunting, confounding and frustrating. How can something so plain and empty be thus?
My I spy game is turning out to be just as challenging as finding those (mostly hidden) pieces of paper in the doctor’s office. My ideas seem to be “mostly hidden” and so does my progress for the day.
It’s now the next day. You can see just how far I was able to make it with that blank screen. But thankfully, today is another day. I will vanquish this formerly blank screen and then continue my victory march by working on my latest work-in-progress. I’m certainly glad that Mondays are followed by Tuesdays! Onward and upward!
My author friend DiVoran actually does play I spy in writing when she needs inspiration. She sits on her screened in patio and writes down interesting things she sees, birds, leaves, bugs. Somehow closely observing nature releases her creativity.
I played I Spy as a child and with my children. Handy game.
Hmm. Interesting thoughts. I’ll tuck that away.